


Sanctuary, Kansas

by eshcaine



Series: The God Hunters [2]
Category: Supernatural, The God Hunters
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Western, Bath Sex, Canon Compliant, Cowboys, Destiel - Freeform, God (Supernatural) - Freeform - Freeform, Gunslingers, Kissing, M/M, Men of Letters, Oral Sex, Season 8, Sexual Content, Time Travel, Undead, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 60,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eshcaine/pseuds/eshcaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel, Sam and Dean Winchester are on their way to investigate the Death of Gary Freleng in Oklahoma City (8.08 Hunteri Heroici). One moment they are riding in the Impala, and the next they awakened out by a campfire in Kansas in 1908.....</p><p>Some Supernatural force has plucked our trio right out of their natural timeline and dropped them into the Wild Wild West. Now they have to unravel the mystery of how they got there before Castiel can bring them all back. But what force could possibly be powerful enough to send them through space and time like this? And what purpose do they serve by being there? And who are the mysterious three travelers they encounter in the small town of Sanctuary, Kansas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I am a huge fan of Sergio Leone's classic Westerns - Once Upon a Time in the West, a Few Dollars More and The Good The Bad and The Ugly for example, films like The Magnificent Seven, Tombstone, Unforgiven, 3:10 to Yuma, and the original TV Show, The Wild Wild West and craziness like The Adventures of Brisco County Jr. I'm also in love with Kim Ji-woon's The Good The Bad and The Weird, an insane Korean Western that came out in 2008. Since seeing 6.18 Frontierland, I have wanted to bring the Winchester brothers back to the Old West for more fun. Thank you for indulging me. )

 

 

Sam awoke with a jolt.

The smell of fire and burning wood was suddenly strong in his nose. He sat up quickly as a shocked cry blurted out of his mouth. He expected to see their motel room alight and filled with flames or to find themselves in the Impala crushed on the side of the road in a twisted accident. His heart was pounding hard and old terrible memories flickered at the edges of his mind. He gulped in a breath of air and quickly looked around.

Sam found himself outside under an open sky with the scent of burning coming from a slowly dying nearby campfire. He looked down to see that he had been snuggly tucked into a woven wool blanket, the kind one sees made by Native American craftsmen in the South West. Beneath the blanket he was wearing a chambray button front shirt and denim pants that were rougher and heavier than his usual fare. On his feet were leather roper style boots that looked as if they had seen a fair amount of use. His usual clothing was gone.

A snort of a sound caught Sam’s ears and he looked over his shoulder startled to see three horses tethered to a weathered tree nearby. One was a pinto with equal parts black and white. One was a large pale gray draft horse that had a dark gray mane and whose shoulders were scattered with white spots. The last horse was midnight black with a long tail that flicked around energetically as it kept insects away. The Impala was no where to be seen.

“DEAN!?” Sam barked out and scrambled to stand up. “DEAN!”

Dean sat up, instantly alert. He stood up fast, stumbling on his feet as he stepped back away from the campfire. He nearly tripped himself as his own blanket fell to his ankles and as he avoided the leather saddle that had been his pillow. “What the…?!” Dean looked down to see that his usual clothes were gone and instead he was wearing charcoal gray pinstripe pants whose hems were frayed slightly at the heels and a button front white shirt that had seen better days. Rough wool socks were on his feet, and there were the beginnings of a hole in the right big toe. “Sam?!”

Both brothers caught each others alarmed eyes briefly before they both scanned the area, their hunters instincts kicking in. Everything around them was calm and still save for the horses and the crackle of the campfire. The brothers still remained tense.

Then it dawned on them a third person lay wrapped in a similar blanket next to them. Their dark thick hair sticking up in mussed fashion from their head.

“Cas?!” Sam moved beside the sleeping form of the angel, his hand gently tugging at Castiel’s shoulder. The angel roused groggily and slowly sat up. He too was without his usual form of dress missing his tan trench coat and blue necktie, but still wearing dark pants and an off white button front shirt. “Sam? What...Dean? How is this possible….was I….was I asleep?!”

The three of them held very still a moment to take in their surroundings completely and to have a quiet moment to check themselves internally. The black horse nearby gave a gentle toss of its head and then settled.

“Okay. The last thing I remember…we were on our way to Oklahoma City right? To see Gary Freleng's body.” Dean looked at Sam, and Sam nodded in agreement. Then they both looked at Castiel.

Castiel’s face was disoriented, “I don’t understand. I was in the back seat of the Impala….and…”He looked up at them, complete confusion in his dark eyes, “And now I am here.”

Alarmed that the angel had been unconscious, Dean took a step toward Cas, “Are you…you know… still you?”

Castiel closed his eyes and seem to search inwardly, after a moment he spoke, “I am still an Angel of the Lord inside my vessel….”

“Good. Then angel mojo us back.” Dean demanded.

“It’s not that simple. I don’t know where we are yet….” Castiel paused. He stood up carefully and looked into the night sky above. Sam and Dean followed his gaze. The sky was filled with more stars than they had ever seen before. The moon was a low slung bright sliver of a crescent near the horizon. Cas looked as if he was reading it all like a book, his eyes carefully cataloguing and noting different parts of the star clustered sky. “And we need to know when we are as well.”

“When?!” Dean’s eyes widened.

“There are stars in this sky that are not visible in your later twentieth century and Neptune is not in the same place either. We have gone back in time but I am not exactly sure how far. Possibly the early twentieth century……We are in North America but I am not certain exactly where.” Cas went to turn to look behind him at the trees, but he waivered on his feet. If not for Sam steadying him, he would have tipped over.

“Very weak.” Castiel said. Dean was instantly at Cas’ other side. They eased Castiel down to sit on his blanket.

“Well, we can’t do anything until dawn. Why don’t we get some rest and start figuring this out when day breaks.” Sam brushed his jeans off and shuffled over to where his blanket was piled. He noticed then there was a large saddle alongside it.

Dean nodded and went to retrieve his blanket, “Sam why don’t you grab some Zs and I’ll take first watch. I’ll wake you in a few hours.” Dean brought his blanket over next to Castiel and dropped it there. Then he picked up what he figured was his saddle, and brought it over as well. He placed it next to what was probably Castiel’s saddle and sat down so his back leaned against it. Then he reached over for a nearby stick and poked at the fire a few times to stir up the coals. The air held a brisk chill to it and keeping the warmth of the fire going was something Dean decided mattered.

Sam propped himself up against his saddle and pulled his blanket around himself. He found a hat next to the saddle and he placed it on his head. It fit his head perfectly. He tilted the brim down to over his eyes and settled.

Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye at the angel once or twice as he stirred the fire. Castiel just sat still and stared silently into the flames. Finally after the long silence Cas said, “I feel very drained. I wonder if I brought us here unintentionally.”

“Well, maybe this is a side effect from coming back from Purgatory.” Dean said this as gently as he could.

“Possibly.” Castiel’s gaze remained trained on the fire. It made sharp reflections of light dance in his eyes.

“But you know, you bringing us here wouldn’t explain the clothes and the horses and the saddles.” Dean tossed the stick into the fire. “Do you think one of the other angels did this?”

Castiel’s voice sounded dry, “I really don’t know.” Then he turned his steady gaze on Dean. “My weakness is decreasing. I should be at full strength in a day or so. Once we know where we are, and when we are, I should be able to bring you and Sam back to your proper time line.” Then Cas just held there looking at Dean. His lips parted slightly as if he would say something more but didn’t.

Dean’s eyes flicked from Castiel’s mouth back up to his eyes. “Okay.”

“You should sleep as well. I will remain on watch.” Castiel pulled his eyes off Dean and looked back to the fire.

Dean remained looking at Castiel’s profile for a long moment watching how the light from the fire played over his features. How the glow rippled in his stoic eyes and made them look so alive. Dean took in a deep breath and then he pulled his blanket up around himself more to settle down against the ground. Soon he was asleep like Sam.

 

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

The brothers awoke with the dawn. After some searching around, they discovered they had packs with dry rations of stale bread and dried fruit, extra clothing, tinder boxes and flint, tools to maintain firearms, ammunition, a small iron stew pot, rope, leather oil and gunpowder. They had weapons as well. Sam had a repeating rifle, a Winchester Model 1886 with locking-block action and a Colt single action army revolver. Castiel found he also had a Colt 45 SAA, two of them in fact and his were the longer barreled seven and half inch Cavalry style. Dean found he had an 1874 Sharps Long Range rifle with a single trigger and two Colt 45 SAAs but with shorter barrels on them. One of them had the Latin “pax facere”, meaning ‘peacemaker’ carved on the handle.

They also found that they each had a hat. Sam’s was a tan slouch cowboy hat with five thin leather cords circling the crown. Dean’s was a charcoal gray gambler’s hat with a black gross grain ribbon around the crown and a silver pin with a filigree letter “W” engraved on it. Castiel’s was a black coachman’s hat and around its crown was tied a thin bright blue silk scarf, oddly the exact shade of blue of his usual neck tie. The hats fit them as if they had been made for them. Sam discovered he had a long oiled cotton duster and a sheepskin vest along with a pair of heavy duty leather gloves. Dean and Cas both had waistcoats and jackets that were made of the same material as their pants as well as jackets and heavier wool over coats. Like the hats, everything fit as if they had either been made for them, or that they had been worn in well.

Dean paused for a long while to note how oddly at ease Castiel seemed in the new clothes, and how well he wore them. As he watched Cas he subconsciously ran a finger into one of the pockets of his waistcoat and looked down to discover a silver pocket watch there with a silver chain fob. He considered taking it out and looking at it, but something inside him seemed to feel the need to wait.

“Whoever or whatever out fitted us knew what they were doing.” Sam hefted his rifle appreciatively and sighted down its barrel. The weapons were well cared for and showed some wear but not much.

Dean pulled on his dark gray boots and attached the spurs. He stopped a moment and regarded the horses, “I hope WE know what we’re doing.”

Once their gear was packed, Castiel approached the horses with gentle movements, his hands open and inviting. He came to the black horse first and gently stroked his hand along its forehead down to its nose. He touched the animal reverently and seemed to be communicating with it on a level that Sam and Dean figured had to do with Castiel’s angelic nature. After a time, Castiel moved to the other horses, touching them tenderly and silently communicating with them. Then he came back to the camp area, picked up his blanket and walked to the pinto. He placed the blanket across its back, and then he turned to retrieve his saddle. As he placed the saddle on the horse and secured it, he seemed to be listening to the horse as he went. When he was done, he turned to Sam and guided him through saddling up the large gray draft horse. When they were done it was Dean’s turn to saddle up the black horse.

“Your horses are quite fond of each of you. They have never seen you before now, but yet they believe you are their riders. I am not entirely sure how this has all come to pass.” Castiel finished loading his pack on his pinto and then he buckled on his gun belts. When he was done they sat low on his hips with a gun on each side. The handles faced forward instead of back, and when Dean saw this he was about to correct Castiel when Sam spoke.

“Do they have names? What do we call them?” Sam was smiling and stroking the draft horse’s neck and crest. Beside the statuesque animal, Sam almost looked small. Almost.

Castiel mounted up into his saddle as if he had been doing this his whole life. He gathered up the reigns and adjusted his hat on his head. “I think you know.”

Sam looked from Castiel to his horse and considered something a moment. Then he said to his horse, “Hello Iolaus......”

“You named your horse Iolaus?” Dean mocked and mounted up with surprising ease onto his black horse.

Sam gave Dean a flat stare, “And what did you name yours?”

Dean just smirked, bent over to stroke the black horse’s neck and then curled his gloved hands around the reigns. “What do you think?”

“I think ‘Baby’ is a cheap name for such a nice horse.” Sam mounted up, and found that he fit on Iolaus and in the saddle well for his large frame.

Dean pulled the brim of his hat a little lower on his brow and gave Sam a wink, “Wrong.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at the brothers and brought his pinto into an easy walk moving away from them. They had been camped on a small ridge and just down a bit from where a river threaded through the lower region. Castiel began guiding his horse in that direction. Everything was green, but the light chill in the air told them it was probably spring.

The brothers continued to banter as they went with Dean making references to the movie ‘Tombstone’. He repeatedly called Castiel ‘Doc Holliday’ and kept referring to Sam as ‘Virgil’ with Sam retorting that ‘Virgil’ was the older brother not the younger and to shut up. It seemed that for now at least, their current brotherly tensions were placed on the back burner. The trio passed the day this way, easy in their saddles and surprised their bodies seemed to instinctively know how to handle themselves. They reached the river long before dusk and continued on, following it. Castiel eventually said he believed they really were in Kansas and that they were possibly following one of the tributaries that flowed into the Arkansas River near the Oklahoma territory line.

Just at sundown they finally came upon a small frontier town that sat along the river. It was a simple town with a cross roads in its center, about six large buildings and twelve smaller ones. One well beaten dirt road ran east and west, and seemed to bisect the town. The other road simply went south to the river's edge and then north out of town in the other direction. There was a decent sized mill, a small dock area for boats and a few modest homes. They had a tiny bank, a black smith with a corral and stables, a dry goods store with a small dairy, the Sherriff’s office beside the modest city hall, a small church, a Milner, a barber with a sign showing dental work available, and a very large hotel on one corner with a saloon within.

The three riders rode their horses in at a slow walk, their hips rolling in their saddles. They made for the hotel directly, dismounted and tethered their horses out front. Castiel opted to stay there with the horses as Sam and Dean went inside to inquire about rooms.

The hotel was of a slightly higher caliber than the one they had been in when searching for Samuel Colt and the phoenix in Sunrise, Wyoming. The main doors had etched glass windows in them and simple white lace curtains. Inside was a simple foyer with a front desk directly opposite the entry doors, and then more double doors to each side. Along the east wall were wide stairs leading up to the second floor. A large wool rug covered the floor before the front desk and oil lamps adorned the walls.

Sam went directly to the front desk where a thin man with a pleasant smile greeted them by saying "Welcome to Sanctuary's Primrose Hotel". He was in a simple tan shirt, waistcoat and pants.

“How many beds per room sir?” Sam tried to relax his shoulders and keep his face mild in spite of his nervousness at the whole situation.

“One bed per room.” The man pushed a large ledger guest book in front of Sam and handed him a quill and ink.

“Three rooms please then…what are your rates?” Sam paused before signing the registry.

“Oh I’m sorry sir, the stage coach from Topeka arrived this afternoon and it was full. We only have two rooms left.” The man’s smile faltered slightly with genuine dismay.

“We’ll take them.” Dean nodded to the man then looked at Sam, “Cas and I can share. It’s not like he sleeps that much anyway…..usually.” Dean watched the other man carefully out of the corner of his eye. The man simply resumed his pleasant air.

“The rooms are a quarter dollar per day. Ten cents for a hot bath in the room or you can use the common baths on the first floor out behind the kitchen for free. If you want your sheets changed every day it’ll be five cents each day. We also have laundry services.” The man smiled wide, apparently proud of the hotel's amenities.

Dean fingered into one of the larger pockets of his waist coat and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. He unfolded it and was about to hand it over to the man when something on the money caught his eye. He held it closer and saw that it was designed quite a bit different than the bills he normally saw. It had the words “IN GOLD COIN” written in large print below _George Washington’s_ face. The date on it said “1905”. Dean swallowed lightly and then handed the hotel clerk the bill. “We’ll have them for the week. We’ll also need to see about stabling our horses and I think we’d all enjoy a bath tonight if possible. And uh, the laundry thing too.”

“Thank you sir, very well sir!” The man took the bill and tucked it away somewhere behind the counter. “If you would please sign here. I’ll have our boy see to your horses and bring your effects to your rooms. The dining room is beyond those doors to my left and the saloon is to the right. Supper is still being served if you are hungry.”

Dean’s face broke into a big smile as he took the quill from Sam and signed his name into the registry as ‘Jim T. West’, “Am I ever!” Then he nudged Sam and handed him the quill.

Sam looked at the name Dean used, rolled his eyes and signed as ‘Samuel Winchester’. Dean was already walking through the doors to retrieve Castiel. As they came back inside together, Dean quietly insisted that Cas sign the registry using a specific name.

“….but I don’t understand that reference…” Castiel looked at Dean in his signature befuddled manner. Dean simply placed the quill into Cas’ hand and Cas sighed. Then he signed, “Artemis Gordon” into the registry and the three walked into the dining hall.

 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

The dining hall had tall windows on the eastern wall, also adorned with the white lace curtains like in the entry. There were six tables with four chairs each. The tables were covered with tan table cloths and held simple small off white ceramic vases with pink tulips in them. There were oil lamps along the walls and a large circular simple candle chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling. A waiter with an impressive waxed handlebar mustache and an equally impressive set of forearms guided them to a table beside a window. Once they were seated he brought three pewter mugs and a pitcher of water. Then he left.

“Okay, so get this..... The clerk said the stage coach came from Topeka…so we probably are in Kansas.” Sam said hunching in close and using a low voice.

Dean nodded and added, “The money I used was issued in 1905, so we know we aren’t further back than that. But I don't ever remember hearing about a town in Kansas named 'Sanctuary'.....How 'bout you Cas?”

They both looked to Castiel, but Cas was looking away from them, his eyes steadfast on the only other occupied table in the room. Sam and Dean cautiously followed Castiel’s gaze. There were three people seated together at the other table. One was a Caucasian man dressed in a brown hounds tooth tweed suit that was fashionable for the era they were in. He was thin but seemed wiry hiding perhaps more musculature than one might first perceive. He had sandy ginger tinted hair, a goatee, wire framed glasses and intelligent looking eyes. He was holding hands with a young woman whose skin was the colour of dark caramel, and whose eyes were a deep warm brown. Her black hair was fashioned up on her head in the Gibson Girl style, and her clothing reflected the fashion of the times as well. Occasionally the woman and the thin man would exchange adoring glances and she would blush openly and sweetly. The third member of their party was an Arab man in deep indigo robes trimmed in thin gold and silver threads, and he was wearing a turban. His dark beard was trimmed close to his face and his dark eyes were creased with laugh lines. He had a firm jaw, full lips and jade green eyes. He was speaking to the other two at the table and gesturing lightly as he spoke. The three would laugh gently together as they ate and conversed.

Dean looked back to their own table and nudged at Cas, “I know you are the Olympic Gold Medal Staring Champ Cas, but give it a rest. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“Yes but…” Cas pulled his gaze away and looked at Dean. He paused and reached over to take hold of Dean’s hand on top of the table. “Remember how I said I could see a variable resonant energy around Grace when we were in Los Angeles some years ago*?”

Dean looked at Cas’ hand resting on his own then looked up into the angel’s deep blue eyes. Some sad memory rippled in Dean’s eyes but then was gone, “Sure. I remember. She had some kind of connection to an old Greek oracle or deity or somethin'. Why?”

“Those three people have a similar energy about them. Only it is much stronger. Deeper. As if it extends past this physical plane… like my wings.” As Castiel said this, he snuck a sly look over his shoulder at the other trio.

Before either brother could say anything, the waiter interrupted them. He brought out a huge tray laden with food. Bowls of beef stew, a loaf of bread, a sizable wedge of cheddar and a small plate of pickles were all placed on the table along with spoons and knives. “Anything else sirs?”

Castiel spoke up and curtly said, “No, thank you.” The waiter gave a light nod and walked away. As Sam and Dean just sat there a moment still processing what Castiel said, Cas began slicing the bread and placing it before the brothers. “Eat. You want us to blend in…” He took some bread for himself and bit into it. He didn’t have to tell Dean twice. Dean dove into the food, devouring the stew and finding it delicious. Sam nibbled on some cheese for a moment, and then glanced at the other table briefly before turning back.

“They can’t be Sibylline can they?” Sam picked up a spoon, “Or some pagan gods?”

Castiel frowned, “I do not believe they are either. I think they are human. I have never seen anything like this before.”

They continued to eat in silence, Castiel as well. Occasionally one of them would glance at the other table but the individuals there did not appear to notice. Once their meal was ended, the waiter reappeared to clear their dishes and asked if they would like some of the pie that was left. Sam and Cas thought Dean was going to explode with delight. The waiter left again.

It was then that the trio at the other table rose from their seats and made to exit the dining hall. Sam, Dean and Cas couldn’t help watch them walk past their table, their eyes cautious. The other trio had just passed the brother’s table when the man in the turban stopped and turned to look directly at Castiel. His head was angled slightly as if he were listening to something, and then he paused and stood there looking overtly at Cas. Nearly ogling him. Castiel turned to meet the man’s gaze directly and Dean visibly bristled with one hand hovering near his gun. The couple that was with the Arab had stopped and were looking back at him with curious interest.

Then the Arab approached closer to Castiel, and he bowed low onto one knee. He brought three fingers to his lips and kissed them, then placed them on his forehead before lowering his hand. “As-salam alaykum to you who are most cherished of Heaven’s Host. I am Kian Zimara and I am honored to be in your presence.” His voice was warm and it resonated, and his tone was filled with reverence. Behind him, the man and woman approached slowly with simple curiosity on their faces. Kian raised his head and smiled with joy at Castiel.

The thin man and Dean spoke at the same time. Dean blurted out “What the hell?!” and the other blurted out “This isn’t them is it?!” Dean and the other man looked at each other with stunned annoyance and then back at Castiel and the Arab.

Castiel said something in Arabic to the man and the man stood up, his smile becoming wider. They exchanged a few more words and then the Arab bowed again quickly, at the waist. Castiel looked at the brothers and said, “Perhaps we should find a more private place to talk.” And he stood up from his seat.

“But…. Pie.” Dean gestured to their empty table that had not yet received the gift of the hotel pie.

Sam sighed, “I’ll go with Cas. We’ll go to one of our rooms. Just come find us quickly okay?” And then he stood up and the three from the other table seemed to make a mental note of Sam’s size. Sam exited the dining hall first and the rest followed.

Dean sat there and drummed a finger on the now empty table. “….most cherished of heaven’s host….hmmph….” He leaned back in his chair and idly looked out the window. Across the street he could see a lamplighter moving along, tending the hanging lamps in front of one of the buildings. The lamplighter finished and then moved on down a bit to the next group, and then the next.

As Dean watched, something caught his eye. A man was standing just outside the lamp glow across the street. He was thin, wearing dark clothing and the walking cane he held caught the gleam off the closest lamp. Then something on the man’s hand gleamed as well. A ring.

Dean sat up and pressed closer to the window. He knew that ring. He knew it very well. He had briefly worn it once himself for one long dark day. He knew the man too and the bottom of his stomach dropped out.

 “Here is your pie sir….” The sound of a pewter plate making contact with the table made Dean jump. Dean whirled to look at the waiter, his eyes wide. Then he swung back around to look out the window again. Typically the man outside was nowhere to be seen.

“Are you alright sir?” The waiter said with concern, “You look as if you’ve seen Death.”

 

 

**(to be continued)**

_*references events that took place in[Immigrant Song](669800/chapters/1223985), however it is not nessasary to read that fic to understand this one. Everything will be explained within the body of this work._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iolaus - He was famed for being Heracles's nephew and for helping with some of his Labors, and also for being one of the Argonauts.
> 
> Sibylline - The Sibyls were oracular women believed to possess prophetic powers in ancient Greece. The earliest Sibyls, ‘who admittedly are known only through legend,’[1] prophesied at certain holy sites, under the divine influence of a deity, originally—at Delphi and Pessinos  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sibyl


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel, Sam and Dean Winchester are on their way to investigate the Death of Gary Freleng in Oklahoma City (8.08 Hunteri Heroici). One moment they are riding in the Impala, and the next they awakened out by a campfire in Kansas in 1908.....
> 
> Some Supernatural force has plucked our trio right out of their natural timeline and dropped them into the Wild Wild West. Now they have to unravel the mystery of how they got there before Castiel can bring them all back. But what force could possibly be powerful enough to send them through space and time like this? And what purpose do they serve by being there? And who are the mysterious three travelers they encountered in the hotel?
> 
> And what is Death doing in the little town of Sanctuary, Kansas?

 

An hour later…..

Sam was in his hotel room in the process of pulling off his boots. The room wasn’t small, but it wasn’t large either. Simple cotton knot rugs lay over the hardwood floors. His bed was a double bed with a sturdy wooden frame, the mattress and pillows were down. He had a large tin bathtub under the window and a dresser with two chairs on either side. The chairs were upholstered with some sort of plush material in a deep green color. At the moment, the tub was filled with fragrant steaming water and a towel had been left for him on one of the chairs. He had just set his boots neatly beside the door when there was a rapid knocking on the other side. Sam gave a weary sigh and opened the door.

Dean stumbled into the room, his face as white as a sheet. He was covered in a faint sheen of sweat and his eyes were wide and panicked. He slammed the door behind him and looked frantically around the room. “Where’s Cas?!”

Sam’s face folded into a puzzled frown, “He’s in your room next door…wha…”

“Get your boots on! We need to bug outta here!” Dean reached down and snatched up Sam’s boots and shoved them into his brother’s arms.

“What?” Sam glanced over to the waiting bath, “No…no way. Why?”

“Sam! Trust me!” Dean glared at his brother, his nostrils flaring.

“Or better yet, trust me.” Came a calm voice from a gaunt but well dressed man that was now suddenly standing beside Sam’s bath tub. He was wearing an elegant stovepipe hat, holding a slim black cane and his finger was adorned with a silver ring that had a milky square stone set into it.

Dean flinched. Sam blinked once, swallowed and drew up to his full height.

“Yes, I know. Long time… yet….. to see you boys. Especially you Dean.” Death quirked an eyebrow at the brothers.

Sam took a tentative step towards the man, “No offense sir, but we were hoping it would be a lot longer.”

Dean came to stand just at Sam’s elbow and whispered to Sam, “The other Horsemen are here too. That’s what I was trying to tell you….”

Death looked down to his sleeve and brushed a bit of stray something off with his long fingers, “Indeed. My brothers are here as well. On business.” He emphasized that last part by lancing Sam with a firm look, “But our business is not with either of you.” He then gave an odd half smirk to Dean, “And no, we didn’t bring you here out of your natural time line.”

“Do you know who did?” Dean stepped around Sam to stand between his brother and Death.

Death sighed tiredly, “It isn’t always about YOU Dean.” He moved fluidly to sit on one of the chairs near him.

“It’s about Kian, Calvin and Ishen.” Sam stated.

“Very astute Sam.” Death very nearly smiled while Dean looked at his brother and silently mouthed ‘Who?’

“You’re not here to stop them are you?” Sam titled his head down and the look he gave to Death showed he clearly disagreed with that idea.

“On the contrary Sam. My brothers and I are here merely to observe. This is new you see.” He gestured with a flourish into the air, “New to this part of the Universe. To human beings. The ability to affect the balance of energy directly in this way. We are eager to see how this plays out. The last two times it happened we didn’t get front row seats.” Death leaned back casually and crossed his legs.

Dean looked over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at his brother and then looked back at Death, “What the hell is going on here?”

“Hell? Hell, my little mitochondria, has nothing to do with this.” Death absently polished the stone of his ring on his lapel.

Sam spoke to Dean but kept his gaze on Death, “Remember how Grace told us her deity had been banished?”

“And all that mumbo-jumbo about recycling gods….yea.” Dean’s gaze intensified as he remembered.

“Kian, Calvin and Ishen are hunters Dean.” Sam stated, a little bit of awe creeping into his voice. “God Hunters.”

“The first of their kind. Fancy new cogs crafted especially to work within the machinery of the Universe.” Death said cooly. “Gifted just recently with their brand new abilities.”

“They find deities, who either are too detrimental to the world in some way, or too outdated, or have no believers anymore,” Sam lean forward to speak to Dean, “Once they find them, they bind or hold them, then they….” Sam wiggled his fingers, “Poof!”

Death stood up then and gestured graciously, “Allow me to enlighten.” Death removed his hat and continued, “Everything in the Universe cycles through…life and death, birth and dying….”He smoothed his hair with a careful hand, “Everything has its time. Suns, moons, plants, insects, people, gods, galaxies. Sometimes however things slip out of the natural order.” Death gave both brothers a pointed look, “This new thing, these new humans…they are a way of keeping the checks and balances without straining the current way of things.”

“So they are a new kind of Reaper?” Dean cocked his head and planted his hands on his hips, “Did they bring us here? Are they after us? After Cas?!”

Death clucked his tongue and sighed loudly in annoyance, “No Dean. They aren’t after your boyfriend. At least, not to harm him at any rate.” Death openly smirked now at Dean, and Dean pulled back in surprise.

“Dean, they are here because one of the Aztec gods of the underworld has strayed too far from his purpose and the hunters have been sent here after him. Kian is some kind of a locator. He can track a deity’s energy, pin point it, and understand how the god is using his powers and that energy.” Sam explained, unable or unwilling to hide his fascination, “Then Ishen binds the god and holds it while Calvin …well….shoves it into the recycler.”

Dean flashed an unbelieving look over at Death, “So you Pestilence, Famine and War have just come to watch?!”

Death almost….almost….chuckled. “We missed the last two. One was a particularly snooty Egyptian god named Set. What I would have given to see the look on his face when they caught him.”

Sam and Dean both looked incredulously at Death and said in tandem, “Really?!”

Death simply shrugged and put on his hat. Then he looked the brothers up and down, “And now we’ll have a comedic act to watch as well as the floor show.”

And then Death was simply gone.

Sam dropped his boots and looked at his brother, “Dean, I think we are here because we are supposed to help Kian, Calvin and Ishen become better hunters. Cas and I talked with them tonight while you were out and we got pretty in depth. Their last two hunts… they had a rough time of it. A lot of people wound up dead and their confidence is pretty shaken. I think we were brought here to train them. Cas agrees with me.”

Dean’s expression softened a little, “Well that’s new. Us being called in to help out the first string.” He paced a little. “That would explain the ‘why’ we are here. Do they have the power of time travel? Did they bring us here?”

“No….” Sam paused. He looked at his brother and then said warily, “Kian told us that his Guide….the spirit of his dead great grandfather….told him that we were a gift to help them.” Sam looked directly at Dean, “A gift….from God.”

Dead turned his head and looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye. Then he turned his head the other way and did the same expression. He opened his mouth slightly, and then frowned and closed it.

“Kian told us that locators have a guide to help give them information. His is the spirit of his great grandfather, a holy man of Islam. He speaks to Kian….from heaven.” Sam swallowed, “Cas confirmed that the spirit isn’t vengeful, or a haunting, or hell spawn…he said he could see the thread connecting Kian to heaven.” Sam took in a deep breath when Dean just continued looking at him, “Kian said he was told to look for an Angel of the Lord accompanied by two ‘Knights of the White Light’ and that these three would instruct and help them.” When Sam said ‘Knights of the White Light’ he gestured between himself and Dean.

Dean sat down hard into the nearest chair. “What did Cas say about all of this?”

“That he can’t confirm or deny how they were chosen and given this task….that’s another crazy story all together…he can only back up the bit about Kian’s spirit guide.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “Dean….Cas has been a little….I dunno…taken with Kian.” He looked a little openly concerned. “I know Cas has been feeling disconnected from heaven a lot lately and well….he’s just latched onto this a lot it seems.”

Dean’s brows bent in worry and he said softly, “Hope is a bitch of a thing.”

Then shaking his head gently Dean stood up, “Look Sam, get some rest. We’ll sort this out tomorrow. The other Horsemen are on a house boat docked near the mill. We’ll freak out about all that after some shut-eye.” He reached over to pat Sam a little on the shoulder. “You said Cas is in the room next door?”

“Last I saw him, right before you got here, yes.” Sam said gently.

Dean nodded and walked to the door. He gave one last look back at Sam and then left. Sam slid out of all his clothes and then moved naked over to the bath. He tested the water gingerly with one finger and found that it hadn’t cooled off much. Smiling, he slowly dipped his body into the water and relaxed a little.

It had been a long weird day.

 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Dean knocked gently at the door of the room he shared with Cas. It was a corner room and Dean surmised from the layout it was over the far west corner of the hotel, over the saloon. He opened the door slowly and stepped inside, then shut the door behind him and fixed the latch. The room was bigger than Sam’s but not by a large amount. Instead of one window it had two. It had a big double bed that was held by a wrought iron frame, brocade upholstered chairs and matching brocade curtains, a fireplace and a very roomy copper bathtub. A teen aged boy was just finishing filling the bathtub with steaming hot water. He arranged several towels along a nearby chair, and then picked up the pails he had used to bring the water and exited. Dean had to re-fix the latch after he left.

Castiel was standing in front of the far window, his hand parting the curtains open so he could look up into the starry night sky above.

Dean removed his hat and hung it on the hat rack by the door next to Castiel’s hat. He unslung his gun belt and placed the guns and belt on the dresser. Then he shucked himself out of both jackets and began to unbutton his waistcoat. “Cas, you okay?” He said this as casually as he could.

When Cas didn’t move or respond, Dean removed his waistcoat and draped it over the back of one of the chairs. “We need to talk about some things….The four Horsemen are here….”

Ever so quietly Castiel said, “I know.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at that and sat down to pull off his boots and socks. Then he walked barefoot over to Cas to stand beside him, “Oh?”

“I saw Death just now. Across the street” Cas stuck his chin out a little more, “Tipped his hat to me.” Cas paused,” You smell agitated. I extrapolated the rest on my own.” Cas had his face trained on the night sky outside still.

Dean nodded and then nervously said, “So how ‘bout that Kian guy and his friends huh?”

Castiel’s gaze slid sideways toward Dean briefly, never fading in its intensity. Then he looked back out into the sky.

Dean cleared his throat then, followed it with a deep breath, and he reached over to take hold of Castiel’s outer jacket which he still wore. Dean firmly but gently worked Cas out of it, and then removed his other jacket. He silently placed these over the back of one of the chairs in the room, and then moved back over to Castiel. Next he removed Cas’ gun belt and firearms, placing them on the dresser next to his own. Then Dean came up behind Cas and reaching around Castiel’s torso, began unbuttoning his waistcoat. Cas just let out a quiet breath and allowed him. Once unbuttoned, Dean removed the waistcoat and placed it with Castiel’s jackets. Then Dean walked back and began unbuttoning the cuffs on Cas’ shirt.

It was then that Cas looked at Dean with a pointed stare, “Dean. What are you doing?”

“You smell like the horses.” Dean said simply, his eyes focused on what he was doing. When one cuff was done, he moved to the other. Then he began to unbutton the front of Castiel’s shirt. “You can’t mojo out of it so…..You’re taking a bath.”

Castiel’s face softened but his mouth turned down at the corners faintly. As Dean pulled off his shirt Cas said, “Kian believes that God’s hand is at work here.”

Dean stopped. He was standing face to face with Cas now, personal space a thing of the past. He looked down at Castiel’s shirt a moment, and shook it out gently before looking back up at Cas. Their eyes met and Dean said in a voice that almost broke, “How do you feel about that?”

“He’s wrong. My Father is gone.” Cas continued to look at Dean and his expression shifted. “I couldn’t break his hope so I said nothing to contradict.”

Dean’s eyes registered his surprise and his lips pursed briefly as if he would say something. Then he looked back down at the shirt in his hands, feeling the warmth from Castiel’s body still lingering on the fabric.

Cas turned away and sat on the chair where his clothes rested and began to remove his boots. Dean draped the shirt on the back of the chair, and then just stood watching until Cas stood up and started to unfasten his belt.

Dean ran his hand along the back of his neck and turned away, “You still want to help them though?” He suddenly realized he could still see Cas in the reflection from the mirror on the wall over the dresser. Dean bit his lip absent mindedly as he caught a glimpse of Castiel’s bare thighs. Then he dropped his eyes to look at his own feet.

“I think we should assist them, yes.”Cas replied and a moment later Dean could hear the sound of Cas stepping into the bath, the water sloshing gently along the sides of the tub.

“Dean. I appear to be lacking in soap. That is required for cleaning is it not?” Another light sound of movement in water came from Castiel’s direction.

Dean took a deep breath then and turned to look in Cas’ direction. The angel was chest deep in steamy water, and mist from it was forming small water droplets at the edges of Cas’ hair and along the sides of his face. Dean glanced around and found a large square cake of soap sitting on the dresser in a tin dish. Dean unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves before his picked up the soap. He walked over to Cas and when the angel looked up at him, cheeks rosy from the warmth of the water, Dean felt something inside him turn over.

“Dunk under and get your hair wet.”Dean said as flatly as he could, but he felt his throat hitch a little. Cas complied. He came up a second later, head soaked. Dean kneeled at the back of the tub, behind Cas, and dipped his hands and the soap in the water. Then he scrubbed at Castiel’s shoulders, followed by lathering up the angel’s dark head of hair. “Hold this…” Dean offered the soap to Cas, and Cas took it. Then Dean slowly shampooed Castiel’s hair, working his strong fingers in slow methodical circles over Cas’ scalp. He took his time and he felt the angel slide down into the water a little deeper. Now Cas was making barely heard small sounds of pleasure in his throat. Dean grinned and continued for a moment or two more, and then had Castiel sink below the water again to rinse. Dean stood, moved around the tub and grabbed a towel. He handed it to Cas and said quietly, “Okay, my turn.”

Castiel frowned slightly and began to stand up. Dean turned his head away and once the towel was taken from his grasp, he began unbuttoning his own shirt. He heard Cas step out of the tub with a small sigh, and Dean had to fight the urge to turn around. Instead he worked himself out of his shirt and placed it with his other clothes. When he went to unbuckle his belt, he stopped. He looked down, looked back up at the ceiling and swallowed nervously. He filled his mind with images of boring unexciting, un-enticing things. Things that weren’t warm naked wet Castiel so he could get the slight boner he had going to go away. It was unexpected and he had no idea what to do about it. Dean heard movement and abruptly Castiel was behind him, the scent of soap and clean skin filled Dean’s nose.

“Do you require assistance Dean?” Was all Cas said.

“Uh, no….nope… I’m okay….I’m good….yea…fine….” Dean let his fingers fumble with his belt a moment trying to stall.

And then Cas was moving around to stand in front of Dean. Castiel’s hair was sticking up at crazy angles, damp and dark. His towel was wrapped low around his waist and his skin was flushed from the hot water. He gave Dean a sour look as if to say ‘Don’t be ridiculous’ and then reached down to deftly unbuckled Dean’s belt. Then he began to undo the buttons on Dean’s pants. Cas’ eyes were fixated on his task, but Dean’s eyes were wide and swimming over Cas’ down turned face. Cas made short work of the buttons and gingerly tugged down Dean’s trousers and his under clothes. Dean stepped back and out of his pants, his face as red as his growing erection. But Castiel either did not see, or did not acknowledge. Cas simply turned away, folded the trousers and walked off to place them with the rest of Dean’s things on the chair. While Castiel did that, Dean went gingerly to the tub, and sank down into the hot water as soon as possible. Soapy suds now floated over the water’s surface and Dean was eternally grateful for the cover. He sank in as deep as his shoulders would go without having too much of his knees and legs peeking up out of the water.

Dean glanced up to see Cas just standing, staring at him with a classic Castiel quizzical look. Dean flashed a nervous smile which grew more nervous as Cas began to walk over to the tub. Dean’s eyes flashed wide when Cas bent over and began reaching into the water. “Uh, Cas? What are you doing?!”

“Looking for the soap….” Cas began to innocently feel around under the water. Dean’s eyes went three sizes bigger than usual and he began to stammer out ‘NO’ and ‘WAIT’ when Castiel’s hand came up on its own with soap in hand. “Dunk please.” Was all Cas said and he moved to kneel behind Dean just as Dean had done for him.

Soon he was making Dean’s eyes roll back inside his head as Castiel’s fingers worked over Dean’s hair and scalp in the same manner Dean had gifted him. With such pleasure running through Dean from that and the heavenly hot water, Dean let go and allowed his apprehension to flow out of his body. He was thoroughly aroused and he had no clue how on Earth he was going to manage getting out of the tub gracefully, but at the moment everything felt too damn good and he didn’t care. Castiel’s massaging fingers moved from Dean’s scalp to his neck and shoulders, and Dean thought maybe this would just make him pass out from sheer joy and save him further embarrassment. Until Cas’ fingers began to work down Dean’s arms in lazy circular motions, and then his chest, and it left Dean making small light gasping sounds.

“C…Cas?” Dean rasped out.

Cas abruptly ceased and said, “Dunk please.”

Half swooning, Dean did as asked, and rinsed all the soap out of his hair. When he came back up, Cas resumed his finger’s massaging exploration down Dean’s chest and down along his sides. When Cas discovered that he couldn’t reach any further, he nudged Dean to lean forward. Dean obeyed. Castiel withdrew. Dean heard the sound of Cas’ towel dropping to the floor but it didn’t quite register until Cas was stepping into the tub behind Dean. The tub was wide but short and Cas could slip his legs around Dean with a knee to each side, then he pulled Dean back to rest against his chest. Cas wrapped his arms and hands under the water under Dean’s arms around to Dean’s front, and Dean rested his elbows along the edge of the tub. Dean was as pliant as melting butter and Cas went back to exploring with his curious hands.

Dean’s head came to rest against Castiel’s shoulder and he looked sidelong at the angel, his own green eyes as dark as an evening forest. Castiel returned the gaze under hooded eyes but said nothing. Instead he pressed his cheek against Dean’s and reached lower, his fingers roaming and rubbing over Dean’s hips.

“….Cas….” The words slipped out of Dean’s lips in a light heady sigh.

“Shhh….” Cas answered in a soft whisper. His fingers found Dean’s firm shaft and they ran along its sides hesitantly. Dean’s head pressed gently back into Castiel’s shoulder and his eyes rolled closed. As Cas continued, Dean sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and a tremor ran through his whole body. Castiel raised an eyebrow and repeated the touching. When his fingers made a firmer stroke, Dean’s own hands gripped along the edge of the tub and he bit his lip.

Castiel shifted his body then, ducking under Dean’s left arm and scooting so Dean was cradled in Cas’ right arm against the back of the tub and Dean’s rump resting against the inside of Castiel’s thigh. Dean’s left arm came to rest across Cas’ shoulders now and it gave Cas a better reach. It also angled him so his face could hover closer to Dean’s, to watch and to read the other man’s expressions. Right now Dean’s eyes were closed and his lips were parted, the bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. Cas braced his right hand against Dean’s side, and his left hand returned to where it had been… ghosting in a faint tease across the hard surface of Dean’s phallus and then down over his scrotum.

Castiel’s eyes, keen and indigo, were riveted to Dean’s face. Searching, watching, and studying. He gripped firm at the base of Dean’s shaft and noted how Dean’s chest rose sharply, how his mouth fell open more, how his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Castiel moved his enclosed grip on Dean’s shaft up and down, then again, then again but didn’t crest to the tip. Dean whimpered and opened his eyes to be met with Castiel’s classic searching gaze, his brows drawn up a bit, his mouth open to a small ‘o’ shape.

Dean’s delirious vision fell on Castiel’s lips and he lifted his head to bring their faces closer. But Cas chose that moment to flit his fingers over the engorged head of Dean’s cock and it sent a shock through Dean that derailed his intent.

Dean grit his teeth and growled out “Stop teasing Cas…”

A mildly surprised look bloomed over Castiel’s face and he leaned back from Dean. He turned his head in the direction of his hand as if he was remembering something, or accessing some long buried information somewhere. “Oh….” Was all he said and he stopped moving for a moment.

Dean huffed out a breath in frustration and brought his left hand up to the back of Castiel’s head. He threaded his fingers through the angel’s hair and said with a heavy undertone to his voice, “Hey….”

Castiel turned back to give his attention to Dean, his flushed face and his heated green eyes. And those eyes fell again to Castiel’s mouth, to his parted lips.

“…aw hell….” The words came rapt and rough from Dean’s throat and in the next breath he captured Cas’s mouth as he rocked up. Dean continued the kiss insistently with deft gentleness at first and then he suckled Cas’ lips with more hunger. As the kiss became more profound Cas sank into it, lost.

Dean broke the kiss hesitantly, and guided Cas’s hand back to where it had been a moment ago on his body. Dean covered his hand over Castiel’s and showed him how to move, how to squeeze, how to stroke. Cas caught on fast, improvising after a few moments as he learned to read the raspy sounds Dean was making. Soon Dean had buried his face against Castiel’s neck, and was covering it in small nips and kisses while his own free hand roamed across Cas’ chest and stomach.

Cas picked up the pace with his hand which garnered new and interesting sounds out of Dean. He continued and soon Dean’s body was shuddering and squirming. Cas began combining long firm strokes that ended with a thumbed swipe over the tip of Dean’s cock. It made Dean choke out short several hot throaty high whines and after doing it five or six times, Dean gripped hold of Cas to pull him close tight. Dean trembled and came, his voice hushed against Castiel’s skin. Once the tension poured out of Dean, Cas released his hand and brought it to gently stroke along Dean’s hip.

After a moment Dean rolled his head back to look into Castiel’s face. Both of them were flush at their lips and their cheeks, a combination of the bath temperature and their intimacy.

“Cas….you….” Dean whispered his eyes slowly growing wider.

Castiel hushed Dean again, pulled away, stood and stepped out of the bathtub. His face was calm and serene as he took his towel and wrapped it about himself once more. He then offered his hand to Dean. Dean took hold of it and allowed himself to be pulled up casually from the water. He took the towel Cas offered him and they both dried off in silence.

Cas moved about the room then, turning the oil lamps down until they snuffed out. Dean just stood and watched with his towel loose about his hips and his face a mix of slack relaxation and dumbfounded surprise. When Cas had turned all the lamps off but the one beside the bed, he came over and tenderly guided Dean in that direction. Cas lifted the covers and Dean crawled in, handing Cas his damp towel. Then Cas took both towels and draped them by the fireplace. Naked he came back to the other side of the bed, climbed in and then reached over to extinguish the last lamp. Then he settled down into the bed next to Dean.

“Cas..?”

“Go to sleep Dean.”

“But we just….”

“Go to sleep Dean.”

“But Cas…you……”

Castiel simply nudged closer, placed a supple kiss to Dean’s forehead. “Hush.” He placed his brow against Dean’s and drifted off to sleep.

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel, Sam and Dean Winchester are on their way to investigate the Death of Gary Freleng in Oklahoma City (8.08 Hunteri Heroici). One moment they are riding in the Impala, and the next they awakened out by a campfire in Kansas in 1908.....
> 
> Some Supernatural force has plucked our trio right out of their natural timeline and dropped them into the Wild Wild West. Now they have to unravel the mystery of how they got there before Castiel can bring them all back. But what force could possibly be powerful enough to send them through space and time like this? And what purpose do they serve by being there? And who are the mysterious three travelers they encounter in the small town of Sanctuary, Kansas?

 

When Dean awoke the next morning he was alone in bed and in the room. A small fire sputtered in the fire place, and someone had hung both his and Castiel’s outer jackets just below their hats on the pegs along the wall. A small ceramic basin of water, a pitcher and a small hand towel sat on the dresser now as well. Sunlight squeaked through past the edges of the closed curtains at the windows. Their bath towels from last night were gone, as well as their clothing but the full tub of cold water remained.

Dean dragged his body out from under the covers and noted it had been a while since he had slept that well. It had been a deep and dreamless sleep, and he actually felt refreshed. “Surprising since the WWF match of the century is about to throw down in this town….” He stretched and rolled his shoulders a few times, and was happy for the fire now that he was out from under the blankets on the bed. He made use of the chamber pot in the room then wandered over to the basin, poured some water into it and washed his hands and face. Then he scrubbed at his teeth with a finger, missing his toothbrush. He drank some water from the pitcher, swished it around in his mouth and spit it into the basin. He dried off with the small towel and made his way to his pack and satchel. Finding clothing there he began to dress.

It was primarily the same ensemble as he had on the previous day but instead of it being a dark charcoal gray it was just a flat matte black. He was in the process of buttoning his vest when he noticed the contents of his waistcoat from yesterday arranged neatly along the fireplace mantle. The stack of cash was there, as well as a few coins and the silver pocket watch. He took a moment to turn that last item over in his fingers and examine it. It was old and worn with some of the design on the outside rubbed down smooth. Leaves and grapes, flowers and other assorted plant life had been beautifully engraved over its surface. Carefully he pressed the latch and opened the watch to instantly hear the steady tick tick tick sound of the time piece. Inside the watch face shimmered like mother of pearl and the numerals and hands were shiny jet black. It was 7:12. On the inside of the cover a photo had been carefully pressed against the convex lid.

Dean felt his heart stop.

It was an old vintage photo of his parents, Mary and John Winchester.

They looked like they were somewhere in their twenties in age and dressed in frontier clothing. John wore buck skin, a beaver skin cap and held a rifle in one hand, while his other hand wrapped lovingly across Mary’s back to her shoulder. Mary wore a prairie dress and a bright smile, her blonde hair falling in soft waves around her face.

Dean realized his hand was shaking and he had to reach out and steady himself against the fireplace. That’s when he saw there was a small piece of paper tucked behind the photo. Just as he took a deep breath and was about to pull the paper free, there was a light rap on the door.

Dean closed the watch and shoved it deep into his vest pocket, “Yea….yea. Come in.”

The door opened hesitantly, and the teen from the evening before entered again with the pails. “Mornin’ sir. Yer Gents are down in the dining room breaking fast… I come ta empty th’ bath an clean th’ room.”

Dean merely nodded and returned all the items on the mantle back into his pockets. Then he went about putting socks and boots on. Once done, he pulled his other suit jacket from his pack, shook it out and pulled it on. He walked to the door, took his hat and then paused, “Hey, how often do they have pie down in the dining room?”

The teen, who had been in the process of scooping water into the pails from the bath didn’t look at Dean and simply said, “Ma bakes every t’other day sir.”

Dean winced with chagrin, “Just my luck. Thanks anyway….”

The teen nodded and Dean walked out into the hallway.

He was brought up short when he found Kian the Arab patiently waiting there in the hall. The lean dark man was wearing similar robes and turban as before, only these were not as ornate and they were a deep umber in color. Kian smiled in greeting and bowed to Dean.

“Uh, yea. Morning to you too.” Dean looked cautiously up and down the hallway.

“SabaaH al-khayr Mr Winchester.” Kian continued to smile at Dean in a warm and pleasant manner, but stood as if waiting for something.

“Yea…sure…”Dean paused and frowned looking Kian dead in the eye, “Can I help you with something?”

Still smiling, Kian looked Dean up and down appreciatively, “You are not wearing your guns.”

Cold panic gripped into Dean’s gut. No, he hadn’t seen them in the room where he had left them on the dresser the night before. He didn’t have a knife or any weapon of any kind on him. He flicked a bright hard look up at Kian and then shifted his eyes down to the large ornately carved scimitar strapped to Kian’s hip. Dean swallowed and started calculating how he was going to disarm the other man.

Kian however gave a boisterous laugh and clapped Dean heartily on the shoulder, “You are quite amusing Mr. Winchester. But here….” Kian lifted up the hem of his robes and reached down along his boot. He withdrew a long slender dagger and offered its hilt to Dean in a fluid and elegant gesture. “Here. As a sign of faith.”

Dean paused and scrutinized Kian for a long moment. The other man’s dark eyes were warm and playful, and his face was open and sincere. Dean scowled, took a step back and thought to himself, “Faith. Right.”

The smile on Kian’s face waned and he gave off a small sigh, “Very well.” He returned the dagger into his boot and stood straight once more. He gestured towards the stairs and inclined his head, “I was asked to escort you down for the morning meal. Your Angel has your firearms and your brother is downstairs as well.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and thought, “My Angel is right…” and he straightened his vest at his hips. Then the wind kind of deflated from his chest when he recalled what had happened between him and Castiel the night before.

Kian raised an eyebrow as if he had heard Dean’s thoughts aloud and an intrigued smile crept up around the corners of his mouth.

Flustered, Dean turned and quickly made his way down the hall and down stairs. Kian followed not far behind, but when Dean came to the thresh hold of the dining room he balked. Smiling still, Kian simply drifted past Dean and entered the room.

This morning the dining hall was filled with noise and people. All the occupants of the hotel filled the tables and there were several waiters moving about the room. Dean followed Kian with his eyes, and discovered that Sam, Castiel and the couple he had seen with Kian last evening were seated with them. Two of the smaller tables had been pushed together to form one larger one to accommodate all six of them. Sam had seated himself at one end of the table, and the sandy haired gentleman was at the other. Cas was to Sam’s right and the lady from Kian’s group was to the other gentleman’s right. This left the seat across from Cas empty and the seat beside Cas empty.

Dean took a deep breath and strode into the room. His eyes zeroed in on the seat beside Cas and he made for that, praying he could get through breakfast without having to look Cas in the eyes. He was now truly wishing he and Cas had made time to talk about what happened, in private, before being within earshot of Sam. If Cas blurted something out to Sam, well, Sam would never let him hear the end of it. Also since Dean still hadn’t sorted everything out in his own head yet, he didn’t want his brother’s two cents clouding things up.

Almost as if Sam knew Dean was thinking about him, Sam caught his eye and smiled a slow careful grin. “Good morning sleepy head. Thought you were going to stay in bed all day….” Sam chided.

Dean gave Sam a black look, turned to the table and stopped. Kian had taken the seat beside Cas, and now the Arab and the Angel were bent close talking softly to each other. Dean clenched his jaw, took in a long breath and then let it out as slowly. Then he offered the most charming smile he could muster to the lady as he took the seat next to her.

“I don’t believe we have met as of yet,” Dean beamed, but hid his agitation shoving it deep into his chest, “Winchester, Dean.” He offered his hand to the lady in greeting.

She took his hand briefly and smiled back. There was nothing forced or strained in it. Her naturally dark lips just bloomed graciously into a delighted look that went all the way up into her dark eyes, “Ah Dean, so sorry we were unable to talk with you last. You’re brother is quite a delight, as is Castiel. You were greatly missed.” Her voice held such a pure sincerity to it that Dean felt some of his unrest ease off slightly. “I am Ishen Cooper, but please do just call me Ishen…”Her accent was English but with something more added to it, as if the English were a well learned but second language to her. “And may I present my husband, Mr. Calvin Emmett Cooper.” She gestured to the sandy haired man at the end of the table that Dean now realized had been watching with a mild but calculating look.

“Howdy.”Dean grinned. He and the other man sized each other up, and Dean suddenly realized that the man was ruffled because Dean was sitting beside his _wife_.

“An honor to make your acquaintance Mr Winchester.” Calvin Emmett Cooper’s very proper British accent was capped off by a tight smile.

“Oh call me Dean.”He said and began to relax a bit. At least these two were something he could understand and handle. He guessed by the way they held hands openly on top of the table that they were probably newlyweds, and when the young couple looked at each other, that look was filled with such tenderness and a depth of love that Dean couldn’t help but stare at them a little. It was all so genuine.

“How long have you two been married?” Dean asked making certain to give the gentleman an easy going ‘I mean no harm’ expression.

Ishen blushed, “Five years.”

Dean’s brows lifted up a little, “I thought you were….” but he let that thought drop because he could suddenly feel Castiel looking at him from across the table. Dean’s eyes slipped over and caught Cas’ gaze full on. The Angel’s eyes were that deep indigo blue from last night and while it was Castiel’s typical flat intent stare; there was also something more to it. Something warmer. Something more…profound. It made Dean’s own eyes go a little wider and he had to look away quickly to regain his breath.

“So I figured today we’d start out with a little combat training….”Sam spoke up addressing the entire table. “Calvin says Kian’s had some edged weapon experience, but he and his wife have had none. And none of them know firearms. After breakfast I thought I’d take the Coopers out and show them the basics of firearms…. and Dean why don’t you an’ Cas go see what Kian can do?”

“Uh, wh….whut…What Kian can do?” Dean swallowed nervously, then his expression shifted and he looked hopefully at Sam. “Shouldn’t we check on the horses?”

“Cas and I took care of that this morning already…. while you were sleeping.” Sam shrugged lightly.

Dean nodded and smiled weakly, looking at Kian and Cas across the table from him. Kian was grinning like a Cheshire cat and Castiel was still looking at Dean with that bottomless sea of something in his eyes. Dean felt his stomach drop.

This was going to be a long day.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

“You….know…. those other three?” A thin voice said. It came from an old frail man, bent down in a rickety wheelchair. An empty hunger echoed in his eyes. On his right hand he wore a silver ring with etched scroll work and a round flat black stone in its center.

“Yes. We’ll meet for the first time in about a century.” This voice was elegant but it held a touch of droll amusement to it. On his hand he too wore a ring. It also was silver but its stone was pale as milk and square in shape.

“You and your cryptic nonsense.” Huffed a third voice that was lower and rougher. He was a younger man than the others and with a fit body and a commanding stride. He paced slightly as he fingered the ring he wore on his hand, turning it absently. It was a simple smooth gold band.

“It doesn’t matter. Why aren’t the Trio doing anything?! Why isn’t anything happening?! I can’t stick around this two bit po-dunk backwater town. I have big places to go, big things to do.” A fourth voice, agitated with a snide edge to its tone. This was a tall man, taller than the others. He had a hard jaw line and he was hovering near the window looking out over the river beyond. He tapped his hand against the window and his ring clacked on the glass. The ring was wide silver and held a mottled moss green stone.

“You were just in San Francisco working. Ease up.” The third man nearly chuckled and rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m off to China. And soon. If there isn’t any action in a fortnight I’m leaving!” Replied the fourth man.

“Now now dear brother,” said the second voice. You could feel the cold smile wrapped around the words as they came out. “You shouldn’t be in such a hurry. If you blink, you might miss everything….”

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Dean was in the middle of a small pasture just outside the town.

On his ass. For the third time in as many minutes.

Castiel was seated calmly under a nearby tree enjoying the shade. His arms were resting lightly in his lap holding Dean’s firearm belt along with his hat, Dean’s hat and a mild look of amusement on his face. Dean threw him an annoyed look and got back up. Again.

Nearby, Kian stood in a half crouch, one arm balanced over his head and the other in what might look like a welcoming gesture extended forwards to Dean. Kian’s turban was unwound and off his head, and instead tucked into his waist sash. His lush dark wavy long hair hung to his shoulders. While Dean was covered in a light sheen of sweat, Kian looked calm, cool and collected. They had been out here barely twenty minutes, and it was pretty clear that Kian didn’t need any training in hand to hand combat, or in blades. He repeatedly had disarmed and tossed Dean on his ass at every turn.

“Dean. I think you should see if Kian can manage a standard attack from behind.” Castiel said as he watched the two men, not hiding how he was enjoying himself watching them.

Dean brushed himself off and smiled weakly at Kian, “Right, sure.” He looked over to Cas and narrowed his eyes at the angel. “Or you know, you could do it.”

Castiel tilted his head and returned Dean’s look, “I’m at quarter strength now and even so it wouldn’t be sporting. I might hurt him.”

Dean huffed out a breath, “Sporting. Uh-huh.” He shook his head and said to Kian, “Okay so… let’s see about yea… just turn around and I’ll….”

Kian straightened and bowed to Dean almost regally, “Mr. Winchester, I believe it is not necessary. Could we perhaps train in something else? Throwing knives?”

“Nah, nah.” Dean looked determined. “Let’s do this.” Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously.

“Very well Mr. Winchester.” Kian gave a small nod and turned his back to Dean. “As you like.”

Dean shifted and adjusted his stance, sidling up behind Kian silently and raising an eyebrow. He was taller than the Arab but not by much. He shook out his hands quietly and braced one foot close in with his toes between Kian’s heels. In one swift soundless movement, Dean whipped his right arm around Kian’s throat and braced it there in a sleeper hold with his left, pulling the Arab backwards. Grimacing and smiling in triumph, Dean felt like he finally had the upper hand.

And then suddenly he didn’t.

Kian simply lowered his body, stepped sideways and moved his hip alongside the one Dean had against his back. This allowed Kian’s foot to move quickly behind Dean’s stabilized foot. As he did this, he braced his upper left arm against Dean’s abdomen, pushed gently and turned. This pulled Dean off balance and sent him tumbling down over Kian’s knee, releasing from the hold. Dean fell back against the ground.

Again.

Kian leaned over Dean and offered his hand to help him up. No smirk, no smile. Just a simple gesture. Castiel on the other hand was looking down to his hands, a deeply amused smile growing wide on his lips. Dean took the offered hand and Kian eased him up to his feet.

“So where did you learn to do all these things?” Dean rolled his shoulder and stretched his arm out. “All these crazy moves?”

 “My father was a merchant along the Silk Road. I spent much of my childhood in China and learned martial arts there. We traveled with an English missionary and that is how I learned to speak and read your language.” Kian smiled again, anticipating Dean’s next question.

“So, you just shifted your weight back like this….” Dean mimicked the movement Kian had used to break the hold, “And then pivoted like this?”

“Yes, but here….” Kian stepped behind Dean and wrapped his arm forward around Dean’s shoulder and neck, “See…where I placed my foot behind yours….” Kian reached down to grip Dean’s thigh and push his leg back so their hips were side by side, ”Yes, like so….” But once Dean was in the position, Kian brushed his hand up Dean’s hip and along his side to take hold of Dean’s arm. Dean was suddenly aware of how smooth and warm Kian’s fingers were on his skin where his sleeves were rolled up. “Now press back against me with your arm….”

Dean glanced sidelong at Kian, and realized even under all this exertion the man smelled like cinnamon and cloves. Dean noted how pleasant that was and wondered if this was some kind of perk Kian got for being a new cog in the machinery of the Universe.

Dean executed the move and sent Kian backwards to land on the ground. Then Dean turned and offered his hand as Kian had done before. Kian took it and came to his feet with a gleaming smile. Then he embraced Dean in a warm fraternal hug for a moment before releasing him again.

Dean nodded returning the smile finally, “You know you can call me Dean….”

“Dean.” Castiel was abruptly standing right beside them and he was staring doggedly at Dean’s face.

Dean instead kept his eyes on Kian and smiled, “Yea Cas?”

“I believe that is enough training for now. We should return to the hotel.” Castiel spoke in his usual manner, but Dean thought maybe just maybe the angel sounded a little annoyed.

“Sure sure.” Dean placed his hand on Kian’s shoulder and pulled the Arab along as he began walking, “Pretty thirsty, a nice tall cool drink of water would be just the thing….yea?”

“Yes indeed.” Kian’s warm smile grew as he looked at Dean.

Cas placed his hat on his head and frowning, followed behind while still carrying Dean’s hat and guns.

 

 

 

 

The three of them met up with Sam, Calvin and Ishen in front of the hotel. Ishen was beaming a bright smile and was spinning a Colt 45 in her hand, holstering it and drawing it in smooth rhythmic motions as if she had been doing it since birth. Calvin was standing next to her, smiling as a rifle rested easily against his shoulder. Dean noted that the Englishman was almost as tall as Sam was.

“Hey Dean….”Sam nodded as he was approached. “How’d it go?”

“Dean’s skill in hand to hand combat is not a proficient as Kian’s as it turns out.” Castiel reported.

Dean just exhaled a little and rolled his eyes, “Yea well… how did you three manage?”

“Shenny’s a natural it turns out.” Sam chuckled and pushed his hat back on his head a little.

“Shenny?” Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Yea.” Sam nodded to Ishen, “Regular Clamity Jane over here.”

“I’m not as fortunate.” Calvin gave a bemused smile and shook his head. “I’m afraid my talents do not lie in firearms or fisticuffs.”

“Cal, don’t put yourself down man, “ Sam said, “You were pretty solid with the rifle. Just remember to exhale right before you …….”

Sam’s train of thought was cut off when a woman’s pleading cry came from across the street. She was older with graying hair that was wrapped into a fashionable knot on the back of her head, and she was wearing a black fancy dress. Her hands were folding into a praying gesture and she was openly begging the man who was standing before her. He was shaking his head, his face remorseful and sad as he spoke in much quieter tones with the woman.

“But you must. He needs to be lain to rest with his family.” She was imploring the man, her voice strained with desperation.

In tandem Sam and Dean wandered over to the woman and the man. Sam removed his hat and asked gently, “What’s the trouble here?”

The woman, determined to have someone listen, turned to Sam with tear filled eyes. “He says he won’t bury my husband….”

The brothers looked to the man who they now realized was the undertaker. The man held his hat in his hands and his fingers coasted nervously along its brim. He looked at the Winchester brothers uncomfortably and said, “No, I said he’d have ta be buried in th’ new cemetery.”

“But I promised Jed he would be interred next to his brother and his father…”The woman wept.

The undertaker gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders, “There is nothin’ I can do ‘bout that Widow Andrews. I ain’t got no one willin’ to go up to th’ old cemetery an bury th’ body or drive th’ hearse. I can’ pay none to git them up there.”

“What’s wrong with the old cemetery? Why won’t anyone go up there?” Dean cocked his eyebrow. He and Sam swapped a glance that spoke a silent acknowledgement between them.

“It’s haunted.” The undertaker said plainly, “Last man we buried up there’s too much trouble. Noises an th’ horses spooked an they barely got th’ man in th’ ground for all manner of weird happenings. Ain’t got none were willin’ to get back up there after that.”

Sam looked at the widow, then at Dean. He took in a breath and then looked at the undertaker with resolve, “My brother and I will do it. We’ll take him up there and bury him.”

The undertaker just nodded and looked as if both Sam and Dean were out of their minds, but he simply said, “I’ll load th’ coach, bring it round, git ya spades fer diggin.” He pointed north along the road that ran out of the town away from the river, “Old cemetery’s up thar.” He looked back at the brothers and passed his hands over his chest in a gesture as if he was crossing himself, “Christ watch over ya boys.” Then he turned and walked away.

The widow turned to Sam, took up Sam’s hands into hers and kissed his knuckles, “Bless you son. Bless you. Our Parson will be long to say words over the grave after you rest my Jed in the family plot.” Then she released him and stepped back. The overwhelming look of relief in her eyes was almost too much.

Dean gave her a curt nod and then steered Sam away slightly by taking hold of Sam’s elbow. In a low voice he said, “I’ll go buy salt at the dry goods store, grab any iron there too.”

Sam nodded, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam looked back at Kian, Ishen and Calvin.

Dean followed his brother’s gaze and his thoughts, “Yea. It might be their wandering Aztec god up there.”

Sam nodded in affirmation. When Dean turned to the store to gather supplies, Sam returned to the group in front of the hotel. He looked at Castiel and Cas instantly seemed to read the younger Winchester’s body language and the look on Sam’s face. Castiel nodded in understanding and left for the stables to saddle their horses.

Sam turned to the trio and said in a hushed voice, “The undertaker says the cemetery is haunted. Dean and I think maybe it might be your guy….”

“Our…guy?” Calvin looked perplexed, as if he was unsure of the terminology Sam was using.

“I think Sam believes it is Mictlantecuhtli, the god whom we are seeking.” Kian said and brought one knuckle to rest against his bottom lip. “And he thinks we should accompany them in this task.”

“Have you felt Mictlantecuhtli’s echos yet Kian? His energy?” Ishen said this and her eyes were carefully searching Kian’s expression.

“Not since we have arrived. However this supposed haunting could be caused by his influence. I feel the Winchester’s logic is sound.” Kian straightened, “And if it is not Mictlantecuhtli, it will be excellent practice for us dealing with an investigative situation.”

“Good.” Sam’s eyes were all business. “Now when we are out there, you follow Dean’s and my leads okay? We don’t want anyone being reckless.”

Calving gave a mildly nervous smile, “I don’t think you have to worry about that with us. Our problem in the past has been too much caution.”

Sam angled his head and narrowed his eyes questioningly, “What do you mean?”

Kian drew in a deep breath and then exhaled, “We hesitate too long second guessing ourselves. It has been a nearly fatal course of…..inaction….”

Calvin placed a hand on Kian’s shoulder, “Not ‘we’ my friend. You are not at fault here. It was my hesitation not yours.” Calvin reached without looking and took hold of Ishen’s hand with his free one, “We will do as asked Sam. Fear not.”

Sam looked them all in the eye and believed them.

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel, Sam and Dean Winchester are in the thick of things once again. The simple task of bringing a dead man to a cemetery to be buried becomes much more than they bargained for.

 

 

The undertaker brought the hearse coach around to the town cross roads and parked it before the hotel. It was a shining four wagon wheel construct, with thin spokes on the center of each wheel spreading out in an elegant radial. It was black with tasteful thin silver inlay on the sides and had actual glass in the windows. Thick velvet curtains adorned the interior and the resting area for the casket was padded velvet as well. The coach looked fairly new with no dents or marks on its sides. Two horses were bridled to the front, and each horse was embellished with a black ostrich plume on the forehead of its harness. The undertaker tethered the reigns and then carefully climbed down to the road.

Dean was waiting there for him. He leaned a bit to the side to peer at the casket inside the coach. It was fairly plain with brass handles and mitered sides. Dean looked back to the undertaker with a half smile and that’s when he noticed the man had bent the brim of his hat with nervous fingers.

“Th’ coach is new. Only used it once ‘for now. You boys scratch it, you’ll be payin’ fer the repairs. Got me?” The undertaker nodded defiantly at Dean and shoved his hat onto his head.

“Uh…right. How much did it cost anyway?” Dean looked at the man skeptically.

“Five hundred seventy-five dollars. And it had to come all th’ way from Denver.”The undertaker rested his hands by gripping the lapels of his suit.

Dean looked over the coach once and groaned. They’d have to park the thing away from the cemetery and carry the coffin the rest of the way. It wasn’t so much the extra work he was unhappy about, but it would keep hands tied up and unable to draw weapons. Dean just glowered and nodded at the undertaker without saying anything else.

A moment later Sam, Castiel, Ishen, Kian and Calvin came around from the stables leading the three horses. Sam offered Dean the reigns to his black horse while Castiel went ahead and mounted up into his saddle.

“Calvin knows how to drive a coach, so he and Ishen will be there. That leaves Kian….”Sam was looking at Dean as if to ask Dean to take the man on his own horse when Castiel simply moved his horse alongside Kian and offered his hand up. Kian slid up onto the horse behind Castiel, and wrapped his arms around Cas’s middle.

Dean turned away as the deep part of his gut hardened into a cold knot. “I’m liking this less and less.” He muttered under his breath. He stepped over to their packs that he had brought down from their rooms. They were filled with small salt pouches and iron rail spikes. The rail spikes he had tied into groups of three on the ends of sturdy leather cords. He had also bought a set of iron fireplace tools. These he passed up to Ishen along with one of the rail spike cords. Then he went over to Sam and handed him several of the salt pouches. He tied one of the rail spike cords loosely around part of Sam’s saddle so he could reach them quickly.

Sam fingered the cords and looked curiously at Dean, “What the heck Dean?”

“Improvising. Figured we can swing em over our heads, toss em like a bolo or somethin’ at the spirits haunting the cemetery.” Dean waggled his brows at Sam, pleased with himself. Sam just let out a small annoyed sigh.

But Dean’s humor vanished when he walked up to Castiel and Kian on Castiel’s horse. He handed up several of the small salt bags to Cas, then handed one of the rail spike cords to Kian. The entire time he was handing the gear over, his eyes continuously darted to Kian’s hands resting on Castiel’s waist. Cas and Kian said nothing and seemed to be more focused on the items they were being given.

Finally Dean mounted up onto his horse and situated the new gear where he could have easy access to it. When Sam saw he was settled, Sam gave off a loud whistle and he trotted his horse ahead of the coach. Calvin snapped the reigns and the coach moved forward to fall in behind Sam leaving Dean, Cas and Kian to bring up the rear. They pulled out of the tiny town and up the north bound road, moving at an easy gait. The sun was just past high noon with the shadows mainly beneath them as they went. The sky above was bright but hazy, and the visibility was good.

As they left town, the trees thickened up for a while, but about a quarter mile out they thinned out to nothing. The area was barren here, the grass dead or dying. What few trees and shrubs stood, they were brown and withered. Everything took on an oppressive silence, and the air seemed to grey out more as if the haze from before was thickening like a weak fog around them.

Dean shifted in his saddle and glanced over at Cas. Kian was speaking in a low voice, leaning over Castiel’s shoulder, his lips at Castiel’s ear. Whatever Kian was saying was making that small barely perceptible smile tug at the corners of Castiel’s mouth. Kian hadn’t wrapped his head up into his turban again, so his hair occasionally swept up along Castiel’s cheek.

Dean eyes went cold and hard, and he squeezed his horses reigns tighter around his hands. He was about to say something to Castiel, to get his attention when the coach in front of him stopped and Sam came riding back. Sam brought his horse to a stop alongside Dean and pointed back into the direction he had just come.

“You need to come look at this Dean….we should leave the horses here.” Sam’s eyes were wide and he jaw was set hard. He dismounted and began to gather his rifle from where it was holstered to the saddle. “Too bad we don’t have any dynomite…” He quipped to Dean, but to the others he said, “Everyone just stay here.” Dean climbed off his horse and went for his rifle. He saw Castiel dismount as well, and hand his horses reigns to Kian. At Sam’s insistence Calvin began to turn the coach back around on the road to point it back in the direction of the town.

Sam was waiting along the edge of the road for Dean to join him. Sam pointed up ahead to a stone wall that was seated about fifty to sixty feet ahead of them. It went to the lip of the road and then went back along the land for roughly one hundred feet. It looked to be about four feet high, and was in a moderate state of repair. Sam crouched and crab walked along the road’s edge, keeping low as if using the wall as cover. Dean did the same, and caught Castiel moving as well behind him from the corner of his eye. As they approached, Dean could hear odd scrabbling and scuffing sounds coming from the other side of the wall, as well as an intermittent hissing sound. Sam removed his hat and eased his head up ever so slowly to peek over the edge of the wall. Dean did the same.

Dean wasn’t sure what he was prepared to see when he peered over the wall’s edge in broad daylight. Bandits maybe? Wild animals? Rattlesnakes? He was not however prepared to see eight corpses in various degrees of decay shambling around the tombstones and open graves within the cemetery walls. Some were missing body parts, as if they had rotted off or were pulled free. Many were draped in dirty rags and torn clothes. Their skin was waxen and mottled with black inky patches. Their fingers were honed into sharp dark burnt looking talons and their eyes….

Dean ducked back down against the wall with Sam. The brothers traded glances that spoke an un-worded conversation that boiled down to Sam expressing how he wasn’t sure this was something they had encountered before and therefore unsure how to proceed, and Dean feeling confident that shambling undead meant zombies, and zombies meant head shots. Dean was about to just raise up and start shooting when Sam gripped Dean’s sleeve with tight alarmed fingers and made a clipped noise in his mouth. Dean followed Sam’s line of sight around behind himself to find Castiel was gone.

 

 

\------------------------------------

 

 

Several things happened nearly all at once.

The first one Dean registered was Ishen’s clear ringing scream back down the road where the coach was. A fast look back down the road showed him that the coach’s horses were bucking and stamping, and Ishen was swinging one of the iron fire place pokers down on something coming up through the roof of the coach.

The second thing Dean registered was that their horses were now moving in sideways agitated trots up the road closer to the cemetery. They were making frightened whinnies and dancing about, tossing their heads and tails.

The third thing was the sound of a gun going off on the other side of the cemetery wall from where he and Sam were crouched. Dean pulled himself up fast to look into the cemetery, and as he raised his guns in his hands, a blur of burnt umber robes rushed past him and over the wall. Kian sailed between the brothers with his sword drawn, and he rushed forward to lance one of the corpses coming over the wall at them clean through the heart.

Castiel was pressed against the wall on the interior of the cemetery, gun in one hand, his other hand out pressed to the forehead of one corpse as if to smite it like he would a demon. The corpse was flailing and hissing, trying to lash out at Cas and claw him. When the usual bright light did not subsume the corpse and make it fall to the ground, Cas shot it at close range with one of his guns. The shot landed in the thing’s gut, but the corpse continued to attack.

The other corpses in the cemetery were turning now towards Castiel and Kian, and they half shuffled half hobbled at a much faster rate than Dean would have expected. He swung himself over the wall, lined up his shot with the head of one corpse and fired. The bullet sang with a soft whistle and buried itself in the dead center of the corpse’s forehead. The corpse shook with spasms and fell to the ground.

“Head shots!!” Dean called out, and lined up another clean kill. He felt more than saw Castiel shoot the corpse attacking him and its body slumped near Dean’s left foot.

Gunfire rang out as the remaining corpses systematically began to drop. Sam was on the outside of the cemetery wall, picking off the ones on the fringe with his rifle. Cas had drawn both guns and was alternating from left to right as he fired, falling quickly into an efficient rhythm. Dean pulled his other gun and began to fire them simultaneously, aiming his shots with practiced ease, dropping two at a time.

Another of Ishen’s scream’s caught Dean’s ears, “Kian?! What’s happening back there with your people??” Dean looked down as he reloaded his 45s.

Kian lobbed the head off one corpse and then turned back, leaping back over the wall and running towards the coach. Dean heard Sam’s rifle silence, then heard his brother let out a grunted curse. Castiel’s guns went quiet as he dropped the last corpse that was standing.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice came yelling from somewhere behind Dean and it held an urgent panic to it.

Dean whirled around to see Castiel leaping back over the wall and heading in the direction of the terrified horses. Sam was now running at the coach, but firing his rifle as he went. Dean was about to vault over the wall himself when he felt the ground under his feet shift. He looked down to see more corpse hands clawing their way up through the ground next to his boots. Dean hopped back, then scanned the cemetery to see other places where corpses were digging their way free.

“Bullshit! There is no way that many people were buried here!” Dean barked at the moving ground, “SON OF A BITCH!!” Dean shoved his guns into their holster and took a running jump over the wall. He raced in the direction where Castiel was calming the horses. He was halfway there when his own beautiful black mount met him and steadied itself so he could climb on. He turned the horse around to see Castiel also seated and leading’s Sam’s horse towards the others.

The space around the coach itself was chaos. The body inside the casket had broken its way out and was now tearing free through the roof. Around them, more of the corpses had come crawling out of the ground and some had managed to take hold on the back of the coach, their black talons raking into the wood as if it were paper. Ishen had fallen off the coach’s front and was beating and swinging at the corpses wildly, anything to just keep them from reaching her. Kian and Sam were making progress, thinning a path through the growing horde gathering around them.

“Let’s get outta here! Regroup in town!” Dean called out, drew one of his 45s and emptied its chambers to clean off the back of the coach.

Sam’s horse slipped alongside Sam, and he was able to hoist himself up into the saddle quickly. He leaped forward on the big draft horse, trampling the remaining corpses between him and the coach under its hooves. He stooped, scooped Ishen up and slung her over his lap. Castiel retrieved Kian, the Arab swinging up onto the back of Castiel’s horse with minimal effort. Calvin cracked the reins on the coach horses and they all bolted back up the road for town.

Dean held back, holstered his empty gun and pulled the other fully loaded one out. He picked off as many of the hideous corpses as he could, trying to stall them to give the others time to retreat back into town. His horse pranced and capered, stepping fast and nervous sideways, but Dean lined up every shot to make them count. When he was down to his last bullet he aimed, sighting down the barrel and looked into the corpse’s eyes.

The eyes were hollow, empty sockets on each and every one of the things. But within that hollow space something pulsed. Something black and oozing with a red twisting depth to it, as if it was linked to a bigger beating source somewhere. It reminded Dean of a nature program he had once seen showing lava erupting thick and black at the ocean’s floor. The molten lava had crusted black as it touched the water once it broke through the seabed. This thing inside the depths of the corpse’s eyes was like that, only instead of it crusting and breaking, it would roil hot in on itself, consuming itself.

Dean felt his body go clammy, as if the blood in his veins had turned to icy sludge. His hearing went cottony and muffled, as if someone had stuffed something in his ears. His vision was filled with the throbbing black red goo inside the hollowed eye sockets, and he felt his grip on his gun and the horse’s reins weaken. Something that felt like dry papery fingers began to itch across Dean’s brain, and he could hear someone whispering deep inside his head.

“….winchessssssterrrrr….” the voice hissed like sand blowing across stone, “…deeeeeannnnn….”

Dean’s head rolled lazily on his neck, and he felt something wet trickle down his cheeks. He lifted his hand sluggishly to touch there and when he withdrew it he could see blood on his fingers. He dumbly frowned and he felt his horse sway like water under him.

“…..yesssss……deeeeeannnnn….” the voice rasped.

“DEAN!”

Suddenly Castiel’s horse was bumping alongside Dean’s leg, and some where nearby Sam’s rifle was cracking out shot after shot. Castiel’s hand reached out and gripped Dean’s shoulder exactly in the same place where he had marked Dean, raising him from perdition years ago. Castiel shook Dean, and Dean’s mind began to clear.

“Dean?!” Castiel’s voice sounded alarmed, fearful even, as his face finally came into focus. Cas’s eyes were wide and terrified, searching over Dean’s face with such intensity it jolted Dean fully back to himself. Dean reached across his chest to clasp Castiel’s hand with his firmly. He looked deep into Cas’s eyes, showing the angel that he was in control again. Castiel swallowed a small sound in his throat and the fear in him visibly drained away. They released their hold on each other and spurred their horses around.

“Let’s go!” Shouted Sam from nearby. He let off one last shot, and then the three of them galloped as fast as they could back to Sanctuary.

 

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester brothers make it back to the small town of Sanctuary safely, but they have a blood thirsty Aztec god of the underworld running loose and somehow they need to draw him out into the open.

 

The brothers and the angel rode hard back along the dirt trail into town. Their horses reached top speed and they covered the distance along the barren stretch of road in a short time. Soon the tree lined area just before town was around them, the crushing silence broken by the simple but welcome sound of a breeze through branches and leaves. They slowed their horses and soon met up with the battered coach waiting in the road along with the other three who were witness to the events in the old cemetery. Ishen had climbed up to resume her place beside Calvin at the front of the coach, while Kian had sat himself on the back end. One of the doors had been torn off and he sat with his legs swinging down to the ground. Reunited, the six began the short trip back to town.

Dean’s head was still feeling a bit off, like an old hang-over working to cling to his brain and not let go. His hands still felt weak and his legs were a little wobbly. He kept seated in his saddle, the adrenaline from the last hours events still coursing clean down into his bones. He kept catching Castiel watching him out of the corners of his eyes, as if Cas was waiting for something to happen. The angel’s expression was wary and concerned, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to be confrontational about it. Sam rode at the back behind everyone, and Dean knew without looking that his brother continued to keep an eye open for anything following them.

As they reached the edge of town the sky began to darken with storm clouds. Nothing sinister feeling, just the normal slow build of a Midwestern late spring rain storm. But the muting of the sun’s warmth affected all of them, causing them to keep their guard up and remain alert. They came to the main cross roads of the town and stopped. The six looked around, carefully taking in the area.

All the people, horses, stray chickens, roaming dogs and random cats that had been populating the town until now were nowhere to be seen. The wind gusted briefly, and in the distance thunder from the brewing storm came, but otherwise the town was quiet. The oppressive eerie silence near the old cemetery was missing yet the town still felt wrong.

Kian pulled his legs up into the coach and sat with them folded up and crossed before his lap. He straightened his back, rested his hands languidly on his thighs, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Ishen and Calvin climbed down from the front of the coach, and Ishen came to stand at the back with her eyes on Kian. Calvin tethered off the coach’s horses and joined her.

While Dean took note of this, Sam walked his horse in a slow circle around within the town cross roads. First he scanned the ground on the cross roads, looking for any sign of something dug up or buried there recently. When he was satisfied that the ground was undamaged, he sat as high in his saddle as he could and repeated the pattern, looking out and around the town. Castiel positioned himself on his horse where he could keep an eye on the north bound road. He drew one of his pistols, and rested it in his hand against his thigh.

“Talk to me Calvin, what’s going on here?” Dean frowned and his eyes darted back and forth between the three at the back of the funeral coach.

Calvin tore his gaze away from his friend and looked up at Dean. At first glance he winced seeing Dean’s face, but then he said, “Kian is reaching out, trying to pick up on the errant god, Mictlantecuhtli. If those walking corpses were made by Mictlantecuhtli then Kian can track him and we can deal with him.”

Dean nodded, and reached up to touch his own face. He wiped his fingers across his cheek under his eye and his fingers came back clotted with drying blood. He felt around his eyes carefully and realized that when he had been lost inside the eye sockets of the corpses, he had started crying blood. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped his eyes and face clean. Then he refolded the cloth and tucked it carefully back into his pocket. The last thing he needed was some crazy wayward god of the Underworld getting its nasty little hands on a fresh sample of his blood.

Sam let off a short calling whistle and Dean turned his horse around. Sam was paused alongside the edge of the corral next to the blacksmith’s and his face was distraught. Dean nudged his horse in that direction and walked him over. But as Dean came up next to Sam, Dean’s horse danced a bit as if spooked. Once Dean looked into the corral he knew why.

The bulk of the town’s populace was all there. Dead. The bodies lumped into random spots as if tossed in carelessly. Worse, Dean could discern where they had been gnawed on, chewed and eaten. He could see Widow Anderson’s body, her mid section open and missing much of her digestive tract. The hotel clerk looked as if something had used his limbs as a chew toy. The boy that had filled the bath for him and Castiel last night was lying in bits and pieces. And there were more bodies, their blood pooling into thick dark eddies in the dirt.

Sam whispered, “We were only gone an hour. Maybe two.”

The brothers trading stony serious looks, then they pulled their horses away to rejoin the group by the funeral coach. Kian was still in deep meditation, his brow furrowed and dotted with sweat. Ishen had climbed into the back of the coach to sit next to him and silently watch. Calvin was pacing, worrying his knuckle between his teeth.

Dean dismounted, but kept his horse beside him close. “So how does this work? And who is this Meech-lan-teck-coot-lee whatever anyway?”

Calvin pulled in a breath as if to clear his head. “Mictlantecuhtli is supposedly the ruler of Mictlan, the Aztec underworld. He ruled there with his wife Mictecacihuatl. Aztecs hoped to have a death good enough for one of the many paradises they believed in but those who failed to gain admission to a paradise were forced to endure a four-year journey through the nine hells of Mictlan. After all the trials, they reached the abode of Mictlantecuhtli where they suffered in his Underworld. It was basically their hell.”

“Wonderful.” Dean paused, something occurring to him, “So he’s not even supposed to be here on Earth. He’s supposed to be in Mictlan?”

Calvin nodded in the affirmative, “Could be why Kain felt his energy originally.”

“Let’s hope the misses stays out of this one….”Dean smirked, then nodded at Kian, “Tell me how this works?”

“Through meditation Kian will hone in on the center of the source of the god’s energy. Their power. Thus far, this has been attached to a physical presence. We then bind that physical aspect and I send it off.” Calvin removed his glasses and began to clean the lens on the edge of his waistcoat.

Dean looked skeptical and pursed his lips slightly still looking at Kian, “Well tell him to hurry up, the sooner this is over, the sooner we can get our asses out of this freaky town.”

 

 

 

Twenty minutes passed and nothing happened.

Finally Kian slumped forward, and Ishen wrapped her arms gently around him, cradling him against her. Kian whispered something only she could hear and she looked up with alarm at Calvin.

“What?! What happened??” Dean, still right there waiting, reached out and took hold of Calvin’s sleeve while looking at Ishen.

She looked pained. “He says Mictlantecuhtli is all around us. The power is here, all over the town. He can’t sort out the exact locale.” Her fearful eyes met Calvin’s. “What if he doesn’t have a physical presence for us to latch on to?”

Dean stepped away from them and his horse. He paced a bit, removing his hat and scrubbing his hand through his hair as he thought. He glanced up to see Sam gently tending to his horse a few feet away as they waited. He looked over at Castiel, still vigilantly watching the north bound road seated on his horse. Dean unintentionally took note of how the shadow from Castiel’s jaw cast a long line down his throat to disappear just under the edge of his collar. It reminded Dean suddenly of their intimacy the night before, of the scent of Castiel’s skin there, then of the feel of their lips on each other and Cas’s hands on his body. Dean’s heart pumped harder in his chest and he felt his fingers fidgeting against the handles of his guns. It deepened his resolve and the ideas growing in his head.

He came back to Calvin. “When you send the god off….banish it….does the physical form it has go too?” In the back of his head he was hoping this was like a demon exorcism, sending the god off and leaving the physical shell behind.

“No. The whole form is gone.” Calvin frowned at Dean, “Why?”

Dean sighed. “I thought maybe it was like with demons. They need a human host to walk around in, a meat suit. I figured maybe old Michie-choo-choo might be looking for a ride, so I was going to offer myself up. Then you could pull him out of me.”

“Dean… what?!” Sam had been close enough to hear, “Dean, no! What the hell….That’s one of the worst plans you have ever come up with. Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hey, just testing the water here okay? Calm down.” Dean scowled and gently shoved at his brother’s shoulder, “Besides. I have any even worse plan than that…..but first….I need a freakin’ drink.”

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

“It’s time.” Death stood up from where he was seated and reached for his top hat and for his cane.

“Finally. I am so fantastically bored I am unable to express it in the language of this dreadful backwater world.” Pestilence moved away from the window he had been staring out of for the last hour. His expression was dulled and his shoulders sagged.

“I want a good seat.”Famine croaked. Then he looked at his older brother Death and his eyes looked pleading. “And tea….with cakes.”

War smirked and snapped his finger at Famine, “If the main event is anything like that scuttle at the cemetery I’d put up with standing on my head to watch. I like those Winchesters. Proper warriors they are.”

Death smiled secretively, and opened his mouth as if he would say something. Then his smile just grew wider, and hollower. He placed his hat on his head and fixed the edge of his lapel. Instead he said, “Remember now, we are not to influence the players or the outcome of this in anyway. We are only here to observe. Spectator sport only.” He drew himself up regally, clasping his cane before him, “Ready?”

The other three nodded in agreement, Death nodded in return, and all four of them flickered and vanished from the room.

 

 

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The main cross road in the small town of Sanctuary was desolate and empty. The encroaching spring storm hovered over head in the sky. Occasionally the wind whispered around but beyond hiding the sun the clouds did little more. A muted feeling hung in the air as if the town was silently mourning its missing citizens. Nothing moved or stirred except for what the gusts touched.

Until Dean slowly walked out of the front hotel doors. He adjusted his hat carefully, then smoothed his hands down the front of his lapels on his jacket. He strode with purposeful steps out into the open road and stopped in its center. He brought his hands to his hips as he planted his feet into a challenging stance.

From the windows of the hotel saloon he could feel Castiel and the three God Hunters watching him from their positions within. They had hidden the horses and the coach away behind the hotel, and then had spent the next half hour sampling the fine spirits at the saloon bar. They had raised their glasses in a solemn toast, then reloaded their weapons. From there Dean had holstered his guns and walked out alone into the street.

Dean glanced up once to the edge of the hotel roof and took a deep breath. “Come on out Mick-talan-tek-quel…”He paused and tried again. “Mickta-lolly-pop….dude….”Dean rolled his eyes at the name he seemed destined to never pronounce properly. He took another full pull of air into his lungs and bellowed out ”Come on out! Let’s do this!! No more pussy footing around! I know that was you inside my head…..scratchin’ around in there like a rat. Come on out and face me you son of a bitch!!” Dean flipped the edges of his coat back to expose his gun holsters openly.

He was answered at first with silence.

Then there was a soft stepping walk, and a shadowy form came moving slowly out of the dry goods store across the street from the hotel. Dean turned to face it. The undertaker hobbled slowly out into the street. His back was bent forward at a strange angle and his face was ashen. The front of his clothing was drenched in dark blood. He halted about twenty feet away from Dean and seemed to sag where he stood. Dean looked perplexed and took a step towards the man to help him.

“Dean, don’t….” Castiel’s voice was just behind Dean, coming from the front of the hotel. “That isn’t….”

The undertaker convulsed then, his whole body shaking in an odd jerking way. The sounds of bone snapping and cracking reached Dean’s ears, and the undertaker’s arms came up as if he was hugging himself. Behind him, Dean could hear the front doors on the hotel close, and Castiel’s careful footsteps.

The undertaker’s body continued to wrack in odd spasms and his arms tightened around himself. Then abruptly they began to pull back, gripping ahold of his back and sides as he did. With a stomach wrenching rip, the undertaker began to rend his flesh away from his bones, as if his skin and muscle was a thick suit he was trying to remove. He pulled it all free with a repulsive sucking sound, and dropped the flesh of himself to the ground with a damp ‘splortch’. He reached up and tugged over his head, pulling the flesh, skin and hair off his head, neck and shoulders as well. He discarded that on the ground and then grinned at Dean with his gore soaked skull, his skinless eyes gleaming with malice.

“…..yes…..let’ssss do thissss deeeeeannnn….”The undertaker spoke, but his voice came from somewhere inside Dean’s head. “….you….owe me….a new coachhhh….”

The ground shifted under Dean’s feet and he shot his eyes downward to see the dirt around him being clawed away by black burnt fingers and talons. Dean hopped backwards and came to stand side by side with Castiel. He shot Cas a look similar to the ones he had given Cas when they were in Purgatory fighting side by side. It was a look of resolve, or determination, of gratitude that Castiel was by his side. At first Castiel kept his eyes forward and trained on the undertaker, Mictlantecuhtli the god of the underworld manifest now and visible. Then he half turned his head and that hint of a smile he always saved for Dean was there. Their eyes met and Dean could see the same glorious blue there that he saw last night as they were wrapped up in each other in the bath.

“Once more into the breach….” Castiel said in his usual papery voice.

Dean winked at Cas and drew his guns.

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winchesters & Co verses the Aztec god Mictlantecuhtli. But where is Death in all this?

 

 

The corpses were everywhere.

Black stained sharpened fingers clawed their way through the parched soil of the road. Soon arms and elbows were pushing heads and bodies up, their mouths were a gaping maw of broken teeth. They hissed and gnashed at the air as they crawled free, dragging clumps of dirt across the ground as they tried to free themselves.

Dean didn’t wait. He started shooting at their heads immediately, using the advantage of having them partially buried to take them out as their heads crested the earth. He walked backwards with careful steps, methodically taking aim and firing right into the top of their skulls. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel draw his two Colt 45s, and noted that Cas hadn’t strapped them on backwards after all. Castiel pulled them out in a cross draw over his body, his right hand reaching to his left hip and his left hand reaching to his right hip. Dean grinned a little lopsidedly and had to admit to himself it was a sexy badass move. Soon Castiel was mimicking Dean’s pattern, taking out as many of the hideous corpses as possible as their craniums birthed through the road.

“Don’t look into their eyes!!” Dean warned as he fired off two more shots.

Overhead rifle fire was ringing out as well. Sam had taken a position on the corner roof of the hotel with their rifles and was using this high vantage to shoot out the corpses that were coming through out of Dean and Cas’s range. Sam too was taking careful aim and not wasting a shot. They only had so much ammunition for this fight, and it had to count.

Things were going well and they were keeping the tide of undead at bay, none of the underworld creatures had thus far managed to pull themselves free of the earth fully. Dean felt a few grasp for his ankles, but he stomped them with his other boot heel and twisted free with ease. A frustrated sound from Castiel caught Dean’s ears and Dean glanced over quickly. Cas had been driven back past the hotel entry way and was hidden from Sam’s view. One of the corpses pushing through had managed to grapple both of Castiel’s ankles, while two others had been able to take hold of Castiel’s calves. Cas was twisting at his hip to get a clear bead on the largest one behind him, but the one to his left was digging into his leg with its sharp claws and breaking the skin.

In two strides Dean’s gun barrel was trained point blank on the one biting into Cas, and less than a breath later the bullet from Dean’s gun was buried in its brain pan. It slumped and released Castiel as Cas shot the other two with swift precision. Dean turned around to check behind him for corpses breaking through and that’s when he saw them.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

For a full second Dean stood stunned by what he saw. They were seated under the canopy in front of the Milner’s shop around a table, and it looked to Dean as if they were sipping afternoon tea. They were watching the attack unfold as if it were mere entertainment. Dean was about to bark out a retort, chide them for their inaction, for them just sitting there watching as he, Cas and Sam fought for their lives. But then Dean knew it would be futile and he needed his energy elsewhere.

“Sam?!” Dean hollered up at his brother as he quickly attempted to reload, “Can you get Micky Mouse over there?! Take him out, stop this party?!”

“He tried,” Cas answered, “I saw him fire six shots when this started. Clean right between the eyes. No effect.” Castiel fired his last two shots, then stepped lightly to stand back to back with Dean as he reloaded. He leaned his shoulders and upper back against Dean, and the contact made an unexpected smile tug on the corners of Dean’s mouth.

“Well shit….where are those other freakin’ goddamn hunters?! I thought this was their party in the first place….” Dean snapped his guns up and took out four more corpses.

Castiel rolled his body slightly, his left shoulder maintaining its connection to Dean’s right shoulder, “See for yourself….” Castiel’s voice almost sounded amused.

Dean’s eyes darted over to where Mictlantecuhtli was still standing. The Aztec god’s arms and hands were raised up in a menacing prowl and he was spitting and growling with obscene vehemence. Ishen stood in front of the god, her head bowed and her arms open but held low at her sides. She was saying something but Dean couldn’t hear her words over the gunfire. Threads of bright shimmering gold were dancing loosely about her form, and they were springing out to lasso tightly around Mictlantecuhtli’s arms and legs. Near her, Kian whirled and weaved with his sword, lopping off the heads of the corpses encroaching on them. Not far away, to Mictlantecuhtli’s left, Calvin was drawing his hands around, weaving them in the air. The man’s focus was trained on the Aztec god, and the stern concentration on his task was apparent.

“Huh….” was all Dean said at first. He had a light look of astonishment on his face but it disappeared quickly. “They need to hurry that up….” He said gruffly and his attention was pulled to three corpses who were out of the ground and nearly free, their feet and ankles the only thing remaining to pull from the ground.

Suddenly there was a brief but loud retort, like the sound of a bomb going off in reverse. A hissing suck of air sounded out and then its abrupt end came punctuated by a hot pop. Instantly all the corpses turned away from Castiel and Dean, and surged towards Mictlantecuhtli and the other hunters. Dean swerved and redoubled his efforts, shooting the corpses in the backs of the head. Castiel joined him and they could see Kian become overwhelmed as the mob of undead pressed down on him.

“Shit shit shit….”Dean spit out, he was out of ammo. Desperate, Dean flashed his eyes around the area as he holstered his guns, searching for something to use as a weapon. He turned and abruptly saw Death looking at him pointedly. Death lifted his tea cup and pointed surreptitiously with his pinky. Dean followed where Death was pointing and his eyes alighted on something leaning just inside at the blacksmith’s. It was a large brightly sharpened threshing scythe. Dean bolted for it, crossing the distance to it as fast as possible. He snatched it up, wheeled around and plowed back to the growing horde of undead.

He was in mid arcing swing when he reached the outer edge of the group and four heads came off as he brought the scythe through on his momentum. Dean let out a whoop of satisfaction, and began to carve a path through the shambling corpses to great effect. His motions fell into a brutal slaying dance, the choreography of movement honed from lancing through monsters in the pale forests of Purgatory. He swung, dipped, turned and pivoted. Heads flew from shoulders and bodies crumbled around him, puppets falling limp with no strings. He thinned the undead swarm with brusque but elegant efficiency.

From his peripheral vision Dean could see the new hunters and the old god. The loud sound had been Calvin opening up what appeared to Dean as a reverse black hole. Instead of a vacuous sucking blackness, it was a bright hot swirling vortex of light. It was creating a terrific roar of noise now, and the old Aztec god was trembling violently as he was slowly drawn back into it. The gold threads of light that bound him were releasing him and fluttering back into Ishen. Dean saw Calvin step forward, his hands extended forward in a pushing gesture, and with one firm press of his open hands to the air, Mictlantecuhtli tumbled backwards into the brilliant light. The loud strange sound cracked through the air once more and the light vanished.

Around them the remaining corpses froze into a rictus of stilted horror. They quickly began to wither away into dust. They broke and dissolved in bare moments, and in a blink they were gone into light ash on the wind.

Dean swung the scythe down and rested it against his hip. He was splattered in thick black gore from the undead and covered in sweat, but his eyes shone with a lively leafy green glimmer. A collective sigh escaped several mouths, and they all slowly looked around the town, their cautious eyes skimming over their environment for any sign of movement.

It was then that a light round of applause rose up from the four men seated at the table in front of the Milner’s. Startled, the hunters in the street all turned toward the sound. Three of the men stood and continued their tasteful clapping for a moment more and then it ceased. One of them moved around the table and began to walk over to Dean and the three god hunters. He was pale, and gaunt, and dressed in an impeccable suit that was fashionable for the time. He approached the group in the street and bowed genteelly. Dean sensed more than saw Castiel come to stand just behind Dean’s right shoulder.

The man addressed the three new hunters; his voice was pleasant and charming. “Nicely done. That was well worth the price of admission. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Death…”

Dean saw Calvin pull Ishen behind him protectively, and Kian took a defensive stance alongside the two of them. Their faces were a mix of disbelief, mistrust and scrutiny. Calvin spoke, “Death, as in… The Grim Reaper? One of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?”

Death turned to Dean and raised one brow, “Why Dean, did you not tell them we were here?”

Dean felt the three new hunters stare at him. He shifted his stance and slid his hand along the scythe’s handle shaft. When Dean spoke it came out swimming in sarcasm, “I guess it just slipped my mind since we’ve been laying about sunbathing all day long. Enjoy your tea?”

“Always so rude….” Death clucked dismissively, yet there was amusement in his eyes as he looked at Dean. He turned his gaze to the three god hunters, and gave them a curt smile, “As I said, well done. We look forward to great things from you in the future.” He then excused himself and walked back to the other men seated at the table.

Dean let out a long sigh and let the scythe drop to the ground with a clatter. He turned and placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, then looked into his friend’s eyes. They traded a warm linger look for a moment, and Dean pulled Cas around so they could walk with Dean’s arm slung around Castiel’s shoulders. They walked to the hotel entry and found Sam standing with the front doors pulled open wide. Kian, Ishen and Calvin came up behind them and for a long moment they all just shared a quiet look amongst themselves.

When Dean glanced over his shoulder to look back, the Four Horsemen were gone. Then Dean looked ahead through the lobby into the dining hall. His arm was still around Castiel’s shoulders and a faint smile was on his lips.

“I wonder if there is any of that pie left….” Dean mused and walked through the doors.

 

 

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The pie had been worth the wait.

Dean sat back, a pleased smile all over his face, his mouth full of peach pie and his hands rubbing happily against his tummy. They had come into the kitchen and raided what food was left that was perishable, famished from the day’s activities. Dean himself had finished off the remains of the cherry pie and the peach pie. There was one brief moment where Sam questioned if perhaps they were feeling the effects of being near the Four Horsemen, but Castiel assured them it was simply the standard hunger from not eating all day. Previously when Famine had inflicted the area with hunger, Castiel had been affected as well. This time he was feeling no such affects. Now that they had eaten their fill, they were all sated and content. They all relaxed languidly in their chairs, silent with their individual thoughts. The sun had begun to set outside however, and darkness was creeping up into the room.

Kian stood and moved away from the table. “Pardon friends, but it has been a long day. I missed 'Asr today because of our confrontation with Mictlantecuhtli and I do not want to be lax again.” He bowed with a pleasant smile before he turned and left.

“'Asr?” Dean asked watching Kian make his way through the lobby and then ascend the stairs to the second floor.

“It is afternoon prayer in the Muslim faith.” Ishen explained.

“Maghrib is the one he goes to observe now.” Castiel’s eyes glanced out to the fading light of the sun. “The sunset prayer.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “I dislike being the one to bring up unpleasant stuff after, you know, talking about something sacred but….”

“Spit it out Sam.” Dean didn’t like the sad look that had over taken his brother’s eyes.

“The bodies? Of all the people from the town? We can’t just leave them all there in the horse corral.”Sam dropped his eyes down to his hands, “It wouldn’t be right.”

There was a long moment of silence and everyone at the table went very still. Ishen and Calvin took hold of each other’s hands and shared a tender look between them. Dean saw this, and instinctively his eyes flicked over to Castiel. Dean pulled in a deep breath and stood up.

“Well I’m already a mess so…..” Dean looked down at his ruined clothes, “Those shovels are still in the back of the hearse right?”

Castiel stood, “Yes. I will go get them. We can place the towns people in a mass grave. It's probably the best solution. I can give them a blessing….or…”He looked at the brothers, “Perhaps since they were violent deaths we should insure a more peaceful rest?”

The agreement on Sam's face was obvious as rose. “I’ll go find lamp oil.”

“I got the salt.” Dean lifted his hand. “Let’s do it all, the blessing, the works. Better safe than sorry.”

Calvin stood up with Dean, “I’d like to assist as well….but I don’t understand, why you need oil and salt?”

Sam and Dean traded a careful look, then Sam said to Calvin and Ishen, “Sometimes when people experience violent deaths their spirits can become held here…either because of the strong emotion connected to the death or some other reason. We’ll bury the bodies and say a blessing but….”

“Sometimes it’s not enough to insure the soul will rest. By salting and burning the bodies, we sever any link to this life that the deceased might have.” Castiel continued.

Calvin and Ishen expressed that they understood and they all made their way into the hotel lobby. Calvin and Ishen paused at the bottom of the stairs as she made go up to their room. Before she did however, he pulled her into a deep embrace, wrapping his arms around her with great tenderness. They kissed, long and lingering and when it slowed and finally broke, they whispered soft words of love into each other’s ears.

As this was happening, Sam simply smiled and exited from the hotel to give them privacy. Dean turned to follow, but Castiel reached out and caught hold of Dean’s sleeve. Castiel tilted his head down a brief moment before he looked up at Dean, his gaze direct and deep. There was an undercurrent of electricity there that lanced right through Dean. Cas looked at the young couple, then brought his attention back to Dean. Dean’s jade eyes were wide and questioning, watching Castiel carefully. Cas stepped in closer to Dean, something obviously on his mind. He was about to speak when Calvin said good night to his wife and turned to the hunter and the angel as his wife went upstairs.

“Sorry…shall we go?” Calvin appeared oblivious to whatever was passing between Dean and Castiel.

 “We’ll be right there…just need to uh…..speak with Cas here a minute…..Okay?” Dean spoke to Calvin but his eyes were still riveted to Castiel’s. “Why don’t you go to the dry goods store and grab the last couple of bags of salt they have there?”

“Of course.” Calvin replied and left.

When he was out of earshot Dean took a step in towards Castiel. They were now within their usual spatial proximity. “Listen….Cas…..I want to talk to you about last night….”

“You enjoyed it.” Castiel said frankly.

A flash of a smile came across Dean’s face in spite of him trying to suppress it. “I did….yes. Very much so…”

“You could have told me to stop at any time.”Castiel almost sounded defensive suddenly, and his eyes narrowed down to a careful squint.

“Cas….I know…” Dean’s smile faded to something more tender. He brought his hands up, then couldn’t decide exactly what he wanted to do with them, so he dropped them down again.

“Why are you making this into a problem then Dean?” Castiel was nearly glaring now and his mouth had pulled into a hard line.

“Whoa….whoa….I wasn’t….there is no problem….but we should probably talk about what happened that’s all.” Dean finished gently and then decided that his hands did indeed need to come up. He brought them to Castiel’s shoulders and he stepped in closer to the angel. They were so close that the rise and fall of Dean’s chest as he breathed eliminated whatever space was left.

“I would rather discuss what happened to you today when you looked into the walking corpses’ eyes. I would rather make certain you are unharmed in anyway Dean.” Castiel sounded insistent. “You were bleeding from your eyes and had become alarmingly pale.”

“I’m fine now Cas.” Dean slid his hands along Castiel’s shoulders. Then he let them travel up. One stopped to rest at the side of Castiel’s neck just below his ear, the other along Cas’s cheek. “I’m okay…really. Whatever it was, whatever was happening, you got me clear of it.”

Castiel nodded, and his face relaxed. They stood in serene silence a moment longer, just looking into each other’s eyes. Neither moved for a long time, save for Dean gently stroking the pad of his thumb against Castiel’s cheek. Eventually Dean drew in a light breath and his eyes fell down to look at Castiel’s mouth. He inched in a bit closer, parting his lips.

“I enjoyed last night as well.” Cas said in a hushed tone, his breath caressing Dean’s mouth and the skin just to one side at its corners. “Perhaps you would like assistance with cleaning up again before bed tonight…”

Dean smiled in a rakish way and closed his eyes. “I think you’re the smartest angel in the garrison….” He closed the space between their mouths and kissed Castiel soundly.

 

 

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the townsfolk of Sanctuary now buried, the Winchesters get an unexpected and frightening visit....

 

 

It wasn’t the first time Dean had fallen asleep in an awkward place with the gore of some supernatural creature soaked into his clothes. It wasn’t the first time he had slept with the blood of their victims dried sticky on his hands and face. And it wasn’t the first time Dean had fallen asleep with his limbs sore and weary from a long day doing his job.

It was however the first time he had fallen asleep with an angel lying against him, dark tufts of hair brushing Dean’s cheek, while out under the wide open Kansas sky. And it was still odd that Castiel needed sleep at all.

Moving the remains of the town’s people from the horse corral out to the large grave they had dug took several long hours of back bending work. Kian had joined them after his prayers were through, but even with five men the task was arduous. They had decided to place as many of the bodies as they could in neat rows instead of just dumping them all together. This had taken well until after midnight and then it was another hour or so to salt and burn the bodies. It was collectively decided that they would fill in the grave in daylight, and Kian and Calvin had returned to the hotel.

Sam, Dean and Cas however came to the conclusion it would be easier to just camp out on the ground under the stars. Sam had located a tree nearby and he had tucked his long legs up into its branches, pulled his hat over his eyes and fallen asleep. Dean and Castiel had gotten as comfortable as possible at the tree’s base, but during the night Castiel had slumped over and his head had wound up on Dean’s shoulder. Dean woke with the dawn’s light caressing one side of his face and with Castiel’s mop of hair against his other side. Reluctant to move, that is exactly where Sam found them when he came down out of the tree a few minutes later. Dean’s one and only reaction or explanation to his brother’s wide intrigued eyes was a crooked goofy sleepy smile.

By noon the task was done and the taxed grave diggers wandered back to the hotel. They found that Ishen and Calvin had been busy not only cooking and cleaning the hotel in preparation for their return, but they had also baked a pie for Dean, and had prepared hot water for the common baths out behind the kitchen.

Kian came downstairs, taking a break from meditating and the six of them ate a midday meal. As they ate Kian told the story of how he had been guided by the spirit of his grandfather to find Ishen and Calvin in Cairo at the train station, as the couple were leaving on their honeymoon. It turned out that they had to travel to Giza to deal with the Egyptian god Set, and the married couple has still not yet gone on their honeymoon five years later.

“Well that’s kind of rough, not being able to spend time alone with the one you love….because of duty and obligations keeping you busy….”Dean spoke to Ishen but his eyes wandered over to Castiel and he was met by the ever present deep blue of the angel’s eyes.

“We manage.” She smiled and curled her fingers around Calvin’s hand. He responded by drawing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles warmly.

Kian must have seen something flicker across Sam’s face as the younger Winchester was watching the married couple because he addressed Sam directly, “You are missing someone yourself are you not?”

Sam answered with a wan smile that never reached his eyes, “What we do… hunting things, saving people….it doesn’t leave a lot of time to cultivate solid relationships usually.”

Kian looked at Sam carefully, “Then perhaps it is time you retired Sam. Let someone else fight for a while?”

Sam pressed his hands against his thighs and then stood up away from his chair, clearing his throat uncomfortably, “I think I’ll go get cleaned up now.” He tipped the edge of his hat to those at the table, “How about we discuss this later tonight in the saloon over that really expensive bourbon we saw in there yesterday?” Everyone agreed that would be an excellent idea, though Dean’s expression seemed pinched. Once Sam had left, the other god hunters began clearing the table and cleaning up. Soon it was just Castiel and Dean alone in the dining hall.

“You’re angry about something.” Castiel said flatly and leveled his gaze at Dean.

Dean stood up and walked away from the table a few paces, then he turned to look back at Cas. His voice was agitated. “When we were in Purgatory, Sam didn’t even look for us Cas….he got a dog and stayed with some girl. He didn’t hunt…..he didn’t hunt for us.”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, his eyes now trained on the double open doors that lead from the dining hall to the lobby behind Dean. Dean turned, following Castiel’s line of sight to see a woman standing there. She had tan skin and long silken black hair, and she was wearing a long cloak made of what looked like parrot feathers and it was so long it reached the floor. Dean was about to speak and ask her who she was, but then he saw her eyes. They were empty hollow sockets filled with writhing red tinged black ocher and they seemed to throb from somewhere deep within. They were exactly like the eye sockets on the undead corpses they had fought the day before.

Dean looked away swiftly and yelled, “Don’t look at her eyes Cas!!” He glanced back at the angel to see that it was too late.

Castiel was standing slack jawed, his eyes wide and empty. The blue of his irises was draining away and his pupils were dilating wider and wider. Bright crimson droplets of blood were cresting at the corners of his eyes and his skin was beginning to wash out ashen.

Dean was moving instantly, muttering “…no no no no no…” and placing himself between Cas and the woman. He tackled Castiel, grabbing at him almost roughly and shoved him back further into the dining hall covering his eyes. “Cas!....CAS?!” Dean's heart was hammering fiercely in his chest.

Cas went limp in Dean’s arms, and Dean shot a look back around at the floor near the door way. He could see the edge of the woman’s cloak and she had not entered the room. “Sam!” Dean hollered out and hefted Castiel closer, letting Cas’s head drop against his shoulder. “SAM!!!”

Without warning there was a cold gust of air that puffed around Dean and Cas, and the woman was there standing beside Dean. She opened the cloak of feathers, pushed it back over her shoulders and let it slip down away from her body. Beneath the cloak, her body was a withered fleshless rot of bone. She reached her desiccated fingers out and stroked them ever so gently along Dean’s temple.

Dean closed his eyes and turned his head away. He could feel her touch skittering across his skin and it felt like the sensation that had crawled across his brain when he had looked too deeply into the corpses’ eyes the day before.

“….deeaaaannnnn…..” that same sand brushed voice came into Dean’s head again, “….where…..issssss….my…..husssssband……” the voice called, pleading. “…..where hasssss he gone?”

Dean winced at the intrusion and held Castiel’s body tighter. “Go away bitch! I don’t know!”

Her fingers passed over his face again and then withdrew. “…..you speak…..the truth….” He felt her move away, and Dean cracked one eye open carefully. She was bending to retrieve her cloak. She stood and walked back across the room, dragging the cloak behind her. Dean could hear her footfalls as she left the hall and went out into the lobby, her dead feet making faint scraping sounds along the wood floor.

And then it was echoing silence except for Dean’s harried breathing.

“Cas….Cas….” Dean babbled as he eased Castiel into a chair. Long thin rivulets of blood were painted down Castiel’s cheeks, though one place was smudged where his face had been resting against Dean’s shoulder. “Cas? Cas please….” Dean stroked at Castiel’s face, patting one cheek gingerly to try to get through to the angel. “Come on Cas…..”

There was the sound of hurried feet coming into the room, Sam’s boots, Kian’s boots, and then Ishen and Calvin’s shoes. They approached quickly, Sam quickly at Dean’s side.

“This is like yesterday with you Dean…..”Sam laid his hand flat against Castiel’s chest. “There’s a heartbeat…”

“What happened?!” Calvin’s voice was edged with confusion and fear.

“Why don’t you freakin’ tell me?!?” Dean growled out, angry and tense. “Some Aztec bitch just danced in here and asked about her husband…..why didn’t you three DO something?!?!” Dean’s body quaked, but his hands remained tender on Castiel’s head.

“We didn’t know…she….her power did not register with me….” Kian sounded honest and devastated.

“Dean,” Sam said carefully, “She probably isn’t rogue. Isn’t on their radar. She might have just been looking for Mictlantecuhtli….”

“She did come looking for Mictlantecuhtli.” A calm and formal voice came from the thresh hold to the lobby. The group in the dining hall all turned to find Death standing there, his tophat on his head and his cane placed before him. One hand carefully set across the other hand over the cane’s end. “She has returned to the underworld, back to where she belongs…..for now.” Death casually removed his hat and entered the room. He wandered over to stand near the group of six, and looked down at Castiel.

“So what…she just waltzes in here, does a whammy on my angel and then leaves?!” Dean spat.

One of Death’s brows quirked up, and a mildly amused smile tugged faintly at the corners of his mouth, “Your angel? I recall a moment in time when you wanted me to…” Death lifted his chin and looked down his nose at Dean who was now glaring daggers up at Death. “Yes, well, pointless to discuss that now.”

“What did she do to him?!” Dean brought his focus back to Castiel’s placid and lifeless face.

“The same thing her husband did to you Dean. They got in your brain tissue via your optical sensory and messed about.” Death sighed as if this was all so very obvious, “The question here is, what are YOU going to do?” And it was apparent in the lilt of Death’s voice that this is why he was here. This was what had brought him and this is what held his curiosity.

“Dean,” Sam spoke in an even tone but kept his eyes on Death standing nearby, “How did you shake it off yesterday? Tell us what happened.”

“I looked into the eye sockets of one of those walking corpse things….”Dean took in a deep shaken breath, “And I was all messed up in the head, weak……”

“You bled from the eyes….cried tears of blood just like this….”Sam prodded.

“Yea…and you came and shot at the things and Cas he was there with you, next to me and….”Dean struggled to piece it together in his head.

“Yea, and?” Sam looked at his brother now.

Dean’s hand came away from Castiel’s face to reach over along his arm. He brushed his fingers across the area where Castiel’s hand print remained, a reminder of their connection. Their profound bond. “He reached out, touched me here….where….his grace marked me…” Dean dropped his eyes to scan up and down Castiel’s body, “But I don’t…..” his voice rose a little in dismay, “I don’t have a mark on him to connect with…”

“Don’t you?” Death said purposefully and when Dean turned to look at him, Death smirked openly.

Colour spilled across Dean’s cheeks like wine and his green eyes nearly went as florid. He first shot a feral look up at the three god hunters. The three hunters stepped back and away, carefully giving Dean space. They congregated to the door to the kitchen and hovered there with concern on their faces. Then Dean looked sidelong at Sam.

“…Uh, Dean?” Sam’s eyes danced between Dean and Cas, “Did you?? ….You didn’t..….with Cas??”

“Can we do this later? Angel in peril remember? Our freakin’ ride home?” Dean barked out sounding annoyed, but Sam’s words had only made the redness on Dean’s cheeks crawl further across his face.

Sam raised his hands in surrender and stood up. He too stepped back, but he didn’t go far.

Dean huffed out a sound that was mixed with nervous anger and something more primal, and his hands began to tremble slightly. He focused fully on Castiel and cradled Cas’s face gently in his hands. Dean muttered something under his breath about dumb faerie tales and then took in a slow, heavy breath to calm himself. “This better work….”

Dean leaned in ever so carefully, first testing his lips against Castiel’s in a light halting graze. “Come back to me Cas….” He sighed out softly, then pressed his mouth more fully against Castiel’s. He repeated again both the words and the action, kissing with more depth and warmth. A faint glimmer of dancing blue fluttered between their lips, and Dean felt the flickering brilliance of Castiel’s grace. He let go of his hesitation and kissed Cas fully, and a moment later after a dancing flash of white blue light between them, Castiel was responding and kissing Dean in return.

“There now. That wasn’t so awful was it?” Death said smoothly, but there was a teasing quality to it.

Castiel’s body moved slightly, and his eyes focused on Dean’s. Their deep soft denim blue colour had returned and his skin was no longer ashen. It took him a moment to completely process what had happened and what was happening, and when he understood his eyes blinked with gentle surprise. “Dean…..”

“Hey Cas,” Dean smiled, and pulled away to give Cas some space to breathe. His lips were now as rosy as his cheeks but his eyes were no longer filled with ire. “Better?”

Cas nodded, “Yes. Much.”

Death made a pleased sound and then said “Be seeing you boys. In about a hundred years or so yes? Do try to make it home in one piece, Hmmm?” Death tipped his hat to Sam, “Sam, it was lovely as always. Castiel,” Death gave the angel a light nod, “Dean….” Death just rolled his eyes at Dean. Then he walked over to the three standing in the doorway to the kitchen and said to them, “A delight to see you again.”

And in a blink Death was gone.

Dean slumped down into a chair near Cas. “Can I please have that bath now?”

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and the Winchesters prepare to travel with the God Hunters to New Orleans and Dean finally gets all that undead washed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Apologies for taking so long to update. Please to forgive? =D )

 

The communal bath area in the back of the hotel was a semi-detached room off behind the kitchen next to the laundry area. It consisted of a small sauna that was about big enough for three people to sit comfortably within, a large five foot circular wood slate basin that was roughly three feet deep, and a small stone fire nook installed in the base of the huge wood tub. Between the sauna and the tub were two wood benches, several buckets and a secondary pump from the well. It looked as if the bath, sauna and tub had been built around the pump. Currently a small fire crackled in the nook, and faint wisps of steam curled up from the fully filled wooden basin.

“It’s a frickin’ hot tub!” Dean chuckled as he stood leaning partially through the entry way.

“It’s a Japanese bath.” Castiel said and noted the area just inside where a person would undress and leave their clothing. “You disrobe, go into the sauna. Then after being there for a time, you seat yourself at the benches and soap, scrub and rinse. Then you enter the basin to soak.”

“This is awesome.” Dean beamed.

“Dean these are pretty rare even in America in our time.” Sam chuckled, “Look, I’ll go get us a change of clothing. Ishen told me the hotel washed out some of our stuff and left it in our room yesterday after breakfast, so I’ll go get that and be right back.” Sam turned and went back into the hotel.

Castiel slipped past Dean, stepped into the disrobing area and began to remove his boots, then hung his gun belt on one of the wooden pegs along the wall there. Dean leaned in further and saw a shelf of towels near the large wood basin. Then his eyes darted back to Castiel who was removing his waistcoat. Dean watched as Cas’s deft fingers moved on the buttons of the vest, methodical and rhythmic.

“Dean?” Cas asked, his eyes intent on the buttons he was navigating on his shirt now, but somehow in response to Dean nervously licking his bottom lip.

“How are you feeling?” Dean slowly stepped in and sat next to Cas. He pulled off one boot, but was watching the angel out of the corner of his eyes.

“Tired. My….”Castiel gave Dean a sideways smile, “Angel ‘mojo’, as you like to call it,…isn’t recovering as quickly as I had believed. We may be placed here in this time line for a bit longer than I anticipated.”

Dean nodded and removed his other boot as Castiel stood and removed his shirt. Sam returned then, a stack of folded clothes in his arms. Castiel dropped his shirt to the side, took the clothing from Sam and placed it on the small chair he had been sitting on. The three of them stripped down without further discussion and crowded into the steaming sauna, towels wrapped about their waists. After a time, they came out, one by one, to soap and scrub and rinse, and then climb into the large wood basin. Sam was the first, and Dean the last as the feeling of the sauna was difficult for him to give up. By the time Dean was scrubbed clean and stepping into the hot water of the basin, Sam had dozed off asleep with his head resting back on his towel on the edge.

When Sam snored lightly, Dean gave out a small light chuckle and looked over at Cas, “Not as much fun this time as the other night…..”

“You seem particularly fixated on our sexually focused encounter…” Cas had closed his eyes shortly after entering the basin and they remained so.

“Well, yea.” Dean said quietly not wanting to disturb Sam, but a hedonistic grin flashed across his face all the same. “I mean….seriously Cas….we….y’know….”

“Yes Dean, I was there actively participating. I am aware of what occurred.” Cas said in his usual tone, still unmoved.

“That’s my point Cas. I mean there is this thing between us and….everything that’s happened with you and me in the past, and then that happening with you and me the other night and….” Dean’s face flushed a shade warmer than the heated basin water was making the rest of his skin.

Cas cracked his eyes open then and nailed Dean with his intense stare. He looked at Dean for a long moment, Dean’s face going through a full litany of different expressions; uncertainty, hesitation, slight fear mixed fully with desire, caring, helplessness, and an open ache that was so blatant Castiel wondered if Dean himself understood what it was. But mixed in there was that smile. The one that Dean wore when he had found Castiel in purgatory, and walked up with ease and embraced him with such warmth it had stunned Cas slightly. Instead of replying to Dean with words, Castiel simply leaned over and planted a firm warm kiss on Dean’s mouth. He followed it up with a quick soft kiss, shorter as if it was a punctuation mark on his previous unspoken sentence. Then he got up out of the basin and without looking back to Dean, dried off and got dressed. He stepped to the entry way of the bath and only then turned to look at Dean.

Dean was relaxed back much in the same manner as Sam. His eyes closed and a happy contented smile lingering on his lips. Castiel smiled, pleased, and walked back into the hotel.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Castiel found the other three guests of the emptied hotel in the saloon at the bar. Ishen was seated up on the edge of the bar itself, a glass tumbler of whiskey cradled in her hands in her lap. Calvin was beside her, with his back leaning against the bar, elbows jutting behind him on its surface. In front of them Kian was pacing slowly, his hands tucked carefully behind his back. When Castiel entered, the three looked over and greeted him with varying smiles.

“Ah good, feel better now, bath and all?” Ishen’s dark eyes squinted with her smile. She was wearing a simple dress covered with an apron, and her hair hung in dark ringlets down the back of her neck.

“Yes. It was….relaxing.” Castiel gave them a polite smile in return. “May I ask what you are doing?”

“We were discussing Kian’s latest visions.” Calvin turned his left hand over, exposing his palm, “And discussing how we were going to proceed.”

When Castiel said nothing but merely looked with interest to Kian, the dark skinned man ceased his movement. Kian let out a short huff of a breath and said, “It seems we are being directed to go to New Orleans, Louisiana. My visions and speaking with my Grandfather all point in that direction. So we’ll be leaving tomorrow to head south. My locator….sense….started feeling a strong pull in that direction last night.”

Castiel tilted his head curiously, “Do you know which deity you are being called to find?”

Kian shook his head. “No. I probably won’t be able to ascertain that until we are closer to the city itself.”

“Sounds like we are heading out tomorrow then.” Sam’s voice came from behind Castiel in the doorway to the saloon.

Castiel turned to look at Sam, and nodded in agreement. “I believe that would be a reasonable course of action since we will not be able to return to our home just yet.”

Sam nodded and came into the saloon, making his way behind the bar. He pointed questioningly to Ishen’s glass and she pointed to a bottle near the center of the long row of alcohol bottles behind the bar. Sam continued, “It’ll give us time to teach you more stuff too….surveillance and stake outs, lock picking, protection symbols, other stuff.”

“Stake…outs?” Calvin raised his brows and swallowed.

“The ability to observe an area, people or persons for a certain length of time without being observed oneself.” Castiel explained.

Calvin looked visibly relieved, “Oh for a moment there I was afraid you were discussing vampires…”

Sam held the ornate bottle in one hand as he placed a glass on the surface of the bar, “Stakes and vampires…” Sam shook his head as he filled the glass a third of the way with the deep amber liquid from the bottle, “Bram Stoker had it wrong. To stop a vampire you have to remove its head from its neck.” He sealed up the bottle and drew his thumb expressively across his own throat.

Calvin visibly paled, “Will we need to know these sorts of things?!”

Sam swirled the liquid around in his glass gently and breathed the scent it released. “You’re hunters now. Yea sure, with a specific focus for the most part, but you’re traveling in the supernaturally aware world now. Better to be armed with knowledge than not.” Sam raised his brows and then sipped at his whiskey.

Calvin nodded in resignation and Ishen reached over to affectionately squeeze at his shoulder. “Think of it this way my Love, you’ll be seeing and doing things that will rival those Jules Verne novels you are so fond of reading…” She bent over and placed a sweet kiss to the top of his head.

“If we are going to begin our travels to New Orleans, we should probably begin preparations….”Castiel looked to Calvin, “Do you know what method of travel we will be taking?”

“We came in on the stage coach, but another is not scheduled to return for a few weeks. I know we can go north and meet up with the rail lines, head for St. Louis, then travel down river to New Orleans.” Calvin replied.

“We could also head for the Arkansas River and take a boat down to New Orleans as well.” Sam said and Castiel quirked a brow at the younger Winchester. Sam replied with a smile as he let his drink rest against his chin, “Hey, all those hours in libraries doing research pays off now and then.”

“Sam perhaps you and Castiel would help me outfit the damaged funeral coach to use for travel until we reach the larger river ways…”Kian asked and the two replied with affirmative nods. Further discussion proved they should work while there was daylight, and Sam asked the remaining couple to inform Dean when he finally wandered out of the hot bath, to which they agreed.

An hour later Dean made an appearance and was quickly commandeered with little resistance into assisting Ishen with gathering supplies, as well as preparing the evening meal for everyone.

By dusk, the funeral coach’s roof had been sheared off and the repairs made to it for travel. Most of the back end was loaded with the remaining salt bags, any weapons and ammunition that was to be found left in the town, a barrel of water blessed with a rosary floating within, several blankets, two tents, dried fruit and beef jerky, clothing for everyone scuttled from various places in town, a cask of rum and a cask of whiskey from the saloon, and various other sundry items needed for the trail. Ishen had also taken several of the fancier hats in the Milner’s with the idea they could be sold or bartered in future.

Their communal evening meal was spent discussing how they would follow the river out of town east, in the hopes it would turn south and meet up with the Arkansas River where hopefully they could find a boat and continue on. They also went over some of the lore about vampires, after Sam teasingly brought up Calvin’s reaction earlier to Dean. Soon, everyone was full, the clean up was finished and the group was wandering upstairs to enjoy sleeping in cozy beds for one last night. Parting acknowledgments for the evening were made, and everyone retired to their rooms.

Soon Dean found himself alone with Castiel in their room.

“So um,” Dean removed his gun belt and dropped it onto one of the chairs near him, then began to remove his boots, “Maybe we’ll get to ride on one of those big steam paddle boats like Mark Twain wrote about? That would be awesome….Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn…..”His green eyes were lit up and glittering with excitement.

Castiel had also begun removing his boots, hat and gun belt, and in a dry voice said, “I remember in 1838 The Cherokee, as the Creeks before them, were brought up the Arkansas on flatboats as part of the ‘Trail of Tears’…..” He paused and looked at Dean with sadness in his eyes, “…some of the river’s history isn’t quite so awesome.”

Dean looked down as the boyish glee drained from his face, “Yea….we’re bound to run into all kinds of racism and prejudice as we travel now….”He let out a long sigh and then said, “You know though, just like our time…or my time I mean….there are good things and bad things. Sucky stuff happens and great stuff happens.” He gave a small shrug and stood up, removed his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. “And yea, we should never forget the sucky stuff and we should fight against it when we are faced with it….but….I gotta enjoy the cool stuff when I can….otherwise…..what’s the point?”

Castiel was suddenly standing directly alongside Dean, his hands lifted as if he would clasp Dean on the shoulder where the handprint lay, now visible since Dean had his shirt halfway off. “Dean….” Castiel’s voice came out a low rumble and his eyes went from looking at the handprint to staring into Dean’s eyes, “This is why you chase sensual pleasure all the time isn’t it? Why you revel in the way the Impala feels as you drive her, why you relish the taste of pie, why you indulge in the flavors of alcohol, why you rejoice with loud rock music….” Castiel drew up close against Dean and finally let his palm cover the handprint, making purposeful skin against skin contact, “….and why you celebrate the feeling of sexual touch so much….”

Dean turned ever so slightly and angled his face in close to Castiel’s. He let his mouth hover over Cas’s as he looked at the other man’s lips, “Life is short. You gotta make the most of it while you can.” Dean flicked his impossibly green eyes up and looked dead center into Castiel’s blue ones.

“And when I touch you?” Castiel’s voice came again in that low vibrating tone and he emphasized his words by squeezing Dean’s arm.

Dean let out a low throaty chuckle and the corners of his mouth edged up. He slid one hand back around behind the angel to place his splayed hand firmly on the small of Castiel’s back. “It’s more than just that.” Dean whispered. “…I dunno what that is yet….but I’d like to keep figuring it out.”

Castiel nodded, and it made his lips graze lightly against Dean’s, “I believe more tactile research is in order perhaps?”

“Oh I hope so…” And Dean silenced their verbal discussion by capturing Castiel’s mouth once again into a lengthy kiss.

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Train robbery!

 

 

“You cheated.” The man standing next to Death said plainly.

“Yes. And what of it. People talk about cheating me everyday…it’s time I had some fun too.” Death smiled wanly and tucked his cane under one arm. Then he shot the man beside him a long look before he said, “You cheated too. Bringing the Winchesters and Castiel here. Stacking the odds. And you’ll cheat in the end as well won’t you?”

The man said nothing and simply smiled in a knowing way.

“Good heavens, you’re going to wipe their memories of all this when you send them back aren’t you?” Death looked scandalized.

“Ishen, Calvin and Kian will remember.” The man’s smile went wide and radiant. Thousands of tiny galaxies banked and swarmed within his eyes.

“But the Winchesters…..and the angel?” Death sighed with exasperation and rolled his eyes when the man beside him simply waggled his brows in answer. “You are no fun at all.”

“Pfft. I’m ten billion kinds of fun in ten billion different dimensions.” The man scoffed. And then he was no longer a man but a pulsing glorious ribbon of layered entwined shifting light that knotted and unknotted in on itself and shone in of a multitude of spectrums.

“Oh fine,” Death sighed with annoyance, “Be that way. For a supreme being you are often impossible to deal with.”

The light shivered, and then made a sound that was a mixture of tiny glass bells and swollen raging seas. Then it simply wasn’t there anymore.

Death cleared his throat and placed his hat carefully on his head. He removed his cane from under his arm and let it strike the ground purposefully. A moment later a reaper appeared at Death’s side and bowed formally. Death looked sidelong at the reaper and nodded while saying, “I’ll expect a full report when it’s over.” The reaper bowed once more and was gone. Then Death turned with an elegant flourish at the hem of his coat and walked away.

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

 

A day and a half after leaving the empty town of Sanctuary, the group heard a train whistle off in the near distance to the north. They had moved into hilly territory now and with spring in full effect the land was becoming green and lush. Sam was still riding his large gray draft horse, Dean on his spritely but powerful black horse and Cas on his nimble pinto, with the modified funeral coach carrying the other three hunters. They had to abandon their tactic of following the river when it turned sharply south long before it would have met up with the Arkansas River, and on Castiel’s counsel they had been making their way up and around over several hills and low ridges heading south east following a rough hewn wagon trail. They were deep in one of the valleys between those hills when they heard the echo of the train whistle. On the evening of the second day they camped at the top of one hill, and the Winchester brothers surmised that by morning the group would probably come across the train tracks the next day. There was talk around the campfire as to whether they should continue to move due south east, or to follow the train rails when they finally came upon them. Calvin proposed they literally cross that issue when they came to it, and to only decide once seeing the rails when they finally came upon them. Then they bunked down for the night.

Castiel discovered he needed less sleep as each day passed, and often opted to take the final watch over camp after Sam and Dean had taken theirs. The previous morning Kian had woken early to observe his prayers, and then he sat quietly with Castiel on watch. They had discussed the Qur'an and some of the biblical texts until the rest had woken to start the day. Again tonight, Sam took first watch as Dean and Castiel took up a spot side by side, sharing a blanket for warmth as they slept. Then Sam woke his brother for his watch, and then later Dean had woken Cas.

So it was in the hushed light just before dawn that Cas was able to see down into the little ravine on the other side of their hill as he walked the perimeter of their camp. He could see the gleam of the railroad tracks faintly down in the gloaming with his angel enhanced sight. And when he saw figures moving about along the railway in an odd manner, he decided it would be best to wake the brothers early.

Soon the three of them and Kian were positioned on their bellies further down along the ravine’s slope to get a better look at what was happening.

“Wish I had some binoculars….” Dean grumbled in a breathy whisper.

“I can see just fine.” Cas quipped, expressionless but Dean gave him a sideways glare anyway.

“And what do you see oh great and powerful Oz?” Dean snarked.

Cas didn’t even bother pointing out that the reference was lost on him. “I believe they mean to stop the train. They’ve built a barricade of hewn trees across the rails and soaked the wood with oil.” Castiel reported in a rough low voice, pointing to direct their attention.

“They’ll set that on fire to make the train stop, then board it….” Sam muttered and squinted down back along the ravine.

“How do you even know these things…?” Dean looked at his brother with annoyed surprise.

“Libraries man…knowledge is power.” Sam chuckled.

“Should we not go down there and stop them?” Kian had one hand on the hilt of his sword and his fingers were playing with the pommel.

“I dunno, if they stop the train, then we can get on it…..” Dean grinned.

“And what if they slaughter everyone on the train to obtain whatever it is they wish to steal?” Castiel frowned at Dean.

Dean sighed with a resigned grumble, “Fine. How do we want to do this?”

Castiel directed their attention several yards back along the rails away from the barricade. “There are seven men waiting back here, three on one side of the ravine and four on our side. Then there are three more waiting up by the barricade. I’m not sensing any others….” Castiel paused and he narrowed his eyes looking down to the railway and then either side along the ravine. “There is something….not right about this…”

It was then that Kian let out a small soft cough in his throat. Sam and Dean looked over to see Kian’s eyes clouded over and dazed, his pupils dilated wide yet fogged as if he had cataracts. Kian’s mouth moved but no words ushered from his lips. Dean reached over to grab Castiel’s arm, to draw his attention to Kian. When Castiel saw what was happening, one of his brows shot up in riveted curiosity.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice began to sound alarmed.

“He’s conferring with his grandfather’s spirit….” Castiel explained, utterly fascinated at what he was seeing.

A moment later Kian regain his sight and he let out a small exhaled gasp. He shot a look to Sam, his face alarmed, “Grandfather says they are not men!”

“Not men?!” Dean glowered.

“They are vampires.” Castiel said flatly.

“That’s just great.” Dean growled. “Probably stopping the train to feed…..” He began to scoot back towards camp. “Sam, you come with me to get the blades we brought. Cas, you and Kian stay here and keep an eye on things. We’ll be right back.”

Kian and Castiel nodded, and then returned their attention to the ravine below. Sam and Dean scuttled as quickly and as soundlessly as possible, making their way up the ridge to the camp. When they arrived, Calvin and Ishen were wrapping up everyone’s bedrolls and breaking camp.

“Don’t build a fire for breakfast….”Dean said hastily. Then he retrieved one of the smaller hand held scythes they had found in town and shoved it into Calvin’s hands. “Remember what we told you about vampires?”

Calvin’s eyes went wide, but he simply gripped the farming tool into his hand. “What’s happening?”

Sam came up to Calvin and placed both his hands in a reassuring manner on Calvin’s shoulders. Sam looked him in the eye and calmly stated, “There are a group of them trying to stop the train….We want you and Ishen to stay here and keep the horses safe. Guard camp. When shit goes down, some of them may flee up here. Stay alert.” Sam nodded, patted Calvin on the shoulders and the hesitation in Calvin’s eyes faded. He returned Sam’s nod and shoved the handle to the scythe into his waistband. Then Sam looked over at Ishen. The determined look in her eyes told him she was ready as well.

Nearby a lone long train whistle called out, high and clear in the spring morning air.

Sam turned then, gathering two axes into his hands while Dean took hold of a sickle and a smaller version of the threshing scythe he had used on the undead back in town. The brothers didn’t even glance at each other before they raced out of camp and back down into the ravine. They were halfway back to where Castiel and Kian were holding position when smoke from the lit barricade drifted up into the sky, and the bright point of the fire set the ravine aglow.

When the brothers reached Cas and Kian, Dean handed off the sickle to Cas. Dean, Castiel and Kian descended down to deal with the seven hiding on either side of the railway, while Sam made his way to the three near the barricade.

The train, chugging down along the line got there first. It shrieked its whistle while its wheels screamed in protest as its brakes were engaged, but stopping its gained momentum wasn’t an easy thing and the train went plowing into the flaming logs on the tracks. The front of the train jumped and shook to a halt, skidding and making a horrific sound as the wheels sparked grinding on the rails.

The gang of vampires didn’t wait until the train was fully stopped. They leapt up into the train as soon as it was slow enough for them to catch hold. Instantly shocked fearful screams broke through the air from within the train, followed quickly by deeper rending howls of terror.

A half a beat after the vampires entered the train and its cars, the Winchesters were behind them. Sam, moving like a force of shadowed wrath, flew into the engineer’s cab. One axe held into an arcing swing as he pivoted around the outside into the cab. The blade of the axe caught one vampire clean and his head was cleaved from his neck before anyone knew Sam was even there. The second his foot was solid on the floor of the cab, Sam was spinning, using his momentum to propel himself into his next attack. He turned as the second vampire turned and Sam’s axe slammed through raised arm and neck in another instant. The last vampire hissed and fled back over the coal bin towards the rest of the train beyond.

Sam paused to look at the engineer, “You okay?!”

Dazed, terrified, the man slid down to the floor nodding frantically. Sam then turned and gave chase to the fleeing vampire. As Sam ran back into the train, first through a mail car, then an empty dining car, only several footfalls behind the vampire, he could hear Dean up ahead whooping and hollering.

Sam reached the passenger car and nearly ran into the back of the vampire he was chasing. The vamp had pulled up short in stunned horror.

Dean was standing in the center of the aisle, scythe rotating in slow rhythmic whips over his head. He was drenched in blood and gore and the remains of four vampires were in a heap at his feet. “Heh heh heh, hey Sammy….” Dean flashed out a feral grin to his brother and it caused the vampire Sam had been chasing to do a slow petrified turn on his heels to face Sam.

Sam smiled. “Hi there.”

And then his axe was up and the vampire’s head was gone. Sam tucked the axe handle into his belt along with his second axe, and began to move towards Dean. Movement caught Sam’s eye as he passed the rows of seats. Passengers were huddled in fear in between the seats, or under them cowering for their lives. As Sam went he would turn to the terrified passengers and speak out softly, giving them words of reassurance and comfort.

Castiel came rushing in hastily behind Dean to call out, “There was one following the rails….he saw us and fled up the ravine.” Kian entered behind him. He was covered in almost as much blood as Dean.

“You let one get away Cas?” Dean chided.

Castiel leveled a warning look at Dean and simply exited the car back the way he came. Dean grimaced and pursued after him as Kian moved forward to assist Sam with the passengers.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

 

The camp was quiet except for the occasional sound of one of the horses whipping their tails about. Calvin was finishing tying down the supplies in the back of the coach, firming up the knots that held the barrel of holy water secure. He had walked around to the front of coach and rechecked the harnesses on the horses when suddenly they began to dance about in agitation. Calvin went to reach to stroke the closest one’s neck to calm her, when a hand came from behind him and gripped hard to his wrist. A second later he was flung backwards, his back slammed against the ground and skid several feet before he stopped. Immediately there was a hard weight on his chest and hips, and someone was fisting their fingers into his hair.

A man was on top of him, snarling and baring a set of ragged needle like teeth. He began to stretch his jaw wide and pull Calvin’s head to the side to expose Calvin’s throat. Frantically Calvin’s hands grabbed for the scythe that had been tucked into his belt only to find that it had tumbled loose when he had been tossed. A fetid growl crawled up out of the man’s throat and he reared his head back, his eyes locked onto Calvin’s now exposed jugular. Calvin crushed his eyes closed and his hands scrabbled at the man, clawing at him in desperation, trying to push him off.

Abruptly there was a loud ‘thwick’ sound, and something thick, hot and wet showered across Calvin’s face, neck and hands. Something thudded to the ground beside Calvin and then the body of the thing attacking him sluggishly slid off of him limply to the side.

Calvin opened his eyes to see Ishen standing tall between his bent knees. Blood was sprayed across her dress and her cheek, but her grim eyes were bright and full of fire. Her hands hung at her sides, and in one of them was the scythe that had been in Calvin’s belt. He quickly stood and gathered Ishen into his arms, bringing her close and peppering kisses across her shoulder and her head. She dropped the scythe and embraced him back, burying her face into him. Her body shook gently as she began to weep out the shock of what had just happened.

The sounds of feet running towards the camp made Calvin tense up and he instinctively dragged Ishen half way behind him protectively. He looked up to find Castiel and Dean tearing up over the edge of the ravine into the camp.

Dean slid to a stop seeing the dead vamp and the married couple splattered in blood. “Whoa…you guys okay?”

They nodded in unison, and Calvin took note of the carnage covering Dean. “Are you and your brother okay?”

“Yea. Fine.” Dean shrugged casually.

Calvin turned away from Dean and Cas, and took Ishen back into his arms. They held fast to each other and ignored everything else around them for a time, whispering soft words into each other’s ear.

Dean turned to Cas with a playful come hither smile, but Castiel put his hands up and backed away. Dean’s smile deflated and a pout bloomed on his lips. “Aw come on Cas….”

“And get my clothes all sticky with all that vampire gore?” Castiel shook his head in a disapproving manner. “No thank you.”

“Fussiest angel in the garrison…” Dean teased, “Look at you. Did you just sit back and watch? You’re spotless….did you mojo yourself clean?”

Kian rounded the edge of the camp at that moment, his face bright with adrenaline from the fight. “That was invigorating!” He turned to Castiel and gave him a small bow, “Thank you for the honor of vanquishing those evil creatures.”

“So you ganked those three vamps eh Kian?” Dean gave an approving smile and Kian returned it. He came over and clapped Kian on the back. “Nice job!”

“I am feeling very accomplished and pleased.” Kian smiled wider. Then he abruptly pulled Dean into a bear hug, slapping dean across the shoulders in a good natured brotherly manner. Dean used this moment to hug Kian back slightly, and to stick his tongue out childishly at Castiel.

Castiel merely rested his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes.

Sam came into camp at that moment and gave a brief curious look as Kian and Dean grinned at each other. He thumbed back over his shoulder in the direction of the train and the ravine. “Only two casualties. I instructed the train conductors to burn the bodies and they’ve begun doing that. They’ll have the track clear by tomorrow but we probably should move on.”

The group agreed unanimously. Calvin helped Ishen up in the front of the coach, and Kian took his place in the back. The Winchesters mounted their horses, and Castiel did the same. Soon they were back on the wagon trail, winding their way along the top of the ridge and heading south east.

After riding for an hour, Dean sidled up alongside Castiel and darted his eyes at the angel. He was trying to tamp down a smile that kept creeping up against the corners of his mouth. His eyes would flicker over to Cas, and the smile would threaten more. Castiel rode stoically with his eyes forward seemingly ignoring Dean. Finally Dean let off a small amused sound and the smile broke through.

“Come on Cas….” Dean voice was laced with gentle humor. “Cas?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, intensifying his gaze as it slipped sideways to look at Dean. “You’ve become...... crusty.”

Dean stifled a laugh, choking on it in his throat. Behind them within earshot, Sam bit his lip to thwart his own laugh.

“If you enjoy being covered in hemoglobin so much Dean, perhaps you should start to observe some of the Mesoamerican bloodletting rituals….” Castiel continued using his usual matter of fact tone.

Dean’s amusement dwindled, “….uh….what?”

“The piercing of soft body tissue….usually the tongue or the lips or the tip of the pe….”

“NO No no!…..I’m good. That’s….wow….okay Cas….” Dean’s eyes went wide. “You win. No touching until I clean up. No problem.”

Castiel lifted his chin and a mildly pleased smile hinted on his lips. “I’m getting you back for telling me I smelled like a horse.”

 

Behind them it was taking all of Sam’s strength not to fall off his horse laughing.

 

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our group finally makes their way to Tulsa Oklahoma, a booming oil town on the Arkansas River. During their celebrations one evening, they are interrupted by an unexpected group.....

 

They rode for four more days, carefully following the land and finally meeting up with the shores of the Arkansas River. They crossed paths with two local settlers who informed them that the oil boom town of Tulsa was a day and a half away, but that they could find transport by big paddle boat in Fort Gibson down the line about one more day after that. They parted company with the settlers and continued down river.

During travel time, they would train when the horses needed to rest. Sam schooled the new hunters in how to check the area for clues and signs. Dean taught them surveillance and stealth. Both brothers went over firearms with them again and again. And Castiel helped them in hand to hand combat and blade training. The time was spent well, and the hunters proved dedicated students.

By the time they made their way around Keystone Lake and started finding the edges of Tulsa, the new hunters were traveling higher in their seats with confidence. Dean said all they needed now was to get their hands dirty and few more times and they’d be fine on their own.

Tulsa was an oil boom town by now and held nearly 20,000 souls in residence by the time the Winchesters, Castiel and the new hunters wandered in. The growth was surging as more and more people came to the area, lured in by the discovery of the Glen Pool, a large ripe pocket of the black oil. New buildings were everywhere, and more were being constructed as settlers arrived daily.

Sam located a new hotel on the southern edges of town overlooking the river, and acquired accommodations for their group and their horses in the stables owned by the establishment. The rooms were bigger than the hotel in Sanctuary, but Dean and Cas opted to share a room anyway. Dean found a newly constructed warehouse near the river not far, and he rented it out for the week to use as a training site. The group settled in, and it was decided they would train there in Tulsa for a week before moving further down the river to Fort Gibson and New Orleans beyond that.

But the town proved too new to have any haunting as of yet, or at least none that the locals were talking about, and so the Winchesters had to find other targets to use for training. They began to focus on simple criminals, having the new hunters track and capture thieves and turn them into the local sheriff.

On their first success they managed to bring in a man who had been breaking in to homes and stealing silver and other easily sold items from new home owners on the edges of town. On their second, they proved that one of the bank mangers for the new bank recently opened, was making off with hundreds of bills each night at closing. By the end of the week the new hunters had made themselves heroes in the eyes of the local sheriff, his deputies and the bank owners.

The week passed quickly.

The night before they had intended on leaving for Fort Gibson, Sam asked everyone to meet up at a saloon not far from their hotel saying he had a surprise for everyone.

The saloon was large and bustling, with a stage and a small band composed of a piano player, a fiddler and an upright bass. Dancing girls would come out and perform on the stage as well as a man who would perform things like sword swallowing or spinning fire. There were tables for poker games and the long bar was staffed with two or more bartenders at any given time. Great gaslight fixtures hung down from the ceiling and peanut shells cracked underfoot on the floor.

Dean and Cas arrived together, walking in side by side in perfect tandem. When Sam was with them as their third, the trio had quickly gelled into a finely tuned machine, able to read each other instinctively in any situation. Deep down, Dean was beyond thrilled and he kept thinking how this would translate into their own hunting once they made it back to their own time. He would have his brother and his angel, and nothing would hold them back.

Now however, it was just he and Cas, looking over the saloon, trying to locate Sam. Dean had dragged Cas and Sam out one afternoon to a tailor, and had new suits made for them. Dean and Cas were wearing theirs now.

Dean was in a deep burgundy suit coat, with a matching waistcoat beneath and a crisp white shirt below that. He wore black trousers and new black boots that shone from a fresh polish. But on his head he wore the hat he’d had since he had arrived in this time line, as he had grown fond of the silver accent on it with its filigreed ‘W’ inscribed. Beside him, Cas was wearing a black pinstripe suit from head to toe, and he had chosen and blue tie to accent it all at his throat.

It was this tie Dean was now adjusting for Cas, since it had somehow gone crooked on their walk over. “When I said ‘don’t ever change’, I didn’t think you would become ‘Our Angel Of Perpetual Crooked Neckties’…...” Dean smiled as he teased, his eyes briefly glancing up to look at Castiel.

Cas simply replied with an annoyed look, and rolled his gaze away to the rest of the saloon. “We need to find Sam.”

Dean finished with the tie and gave Cas the once over. Dean’s eyes were full of open adoration for the angel and his smile echoed that as well. “You look good Cas.”

Castiel shot Dean a sideways look and brushed his hands awkwardly against the fabric of his suit once. “Thank you Dean. I….” Cas’s throat bobbed nervously once as he looked Dean up and down, and the heat in his eyes then blazed like small forest fires. Dean’s cheeks reddened in return and he simply brought his hand up against Castiel’s back, his own smile growing warmer and bigger.

“Dean, Castiel…” A bright female voice came from Dean’s other side. Dean turned to find Ischen there, Calvin at her side and Kian just behind. “You’ve just arrived as well?” She smiled at them, her dark eyes sweet and soft.

“Yea, not sure where the big Moose is….” Dean chuckled and nodded a greeting to them, “Usually you can spot him in a crowd from a good mile away.”

“Pardon, are you looking for Mr. Samuel Winchester?” One of the dancehall girls was now standing in front of them, smiling. Dean confirmed that they were, and she asked them to follow her. She turned and led them through the saloon, back towards the stage area. As they approached, Dean could see there were private party rooms with double swinging half doors that could be opened to view the stage area. The girl led them to the one closest to the stage and held the doors open for them.

Inside there was a large round table covered in a red cloth, surrounded by cushioned seats and candles. The table was spread with a feast, several bottles of wine and a large decanter of some amber coloured alcohol. Sam stood to the back, a lit cigar in one hand, smiling one of the biggest smiles Dean had seen on his brother in a long time. He was wearing the suit Dean had bought him made of a light gray nearly silvery hued fabric with a darker gray waistcoat. Sam had pulled his hair back into a tidy ponytail at the nape of his neck and it made him look suave and distinguished instead of boyish or goofy. Sam gestured for them to sit, but he came and grappled each person into a warm welcoming hug before they did.

When Sam came to hug Dean, he caught Dean’s ‘what is going on what is wrong Sammy’ look, and simply said, “Don’t worry, it’s not bad.” As he pulled his brother in for a tight firm embrace.

Sam then tipped the dancehall girl and closed the doors. He turned and took his seat between Dean and Kian, and reached to open one of the bottles of wine, “Eat, enjoy…” He poured wine for everyone and then stood again raising his glass in a toast. Everyone at the table raised their glasses as well.

Sam smiled once more, “A toast! I just wanted to bring us all together to celebrate our time so far. In our lives good times don't come around often and……well……” He paused and the fondness in his eyes shimmered,  “To new friends and soon to be the best hunters the world has ever seen….to Cas, my unexpected-might-as-well-call-you-a-brother-now-too…and to Dean, the best brother a guy could hope to be raised by…..Cheers!”

The next two hours were spent eating and drinking, and toasting again. Each time glasses were raised however, the toasts became slightly more outlandish and comical. Eventually toasts were made to the horses, to shotguns, to anti-possession tattoos, and even to time travel. One was made specifically to Jules Verne. Another to Baby, Dean’s Impala left behind….or forward…in the future. One to twentieth century plumbing. They laughed long and loud and eventually opened the doors to the room so they could enjoy the music and dancing on stage.

Ischen and Calvin were up dancing, boisterously bouncing and twirling each other just beyond the half doors to the private room when the music abruptly stopped and the din of noise in the saloon dropped to quiet murmurs.

Sam and Dean peered out of the doorway of the private room and followed Calvin and Ischen’s gaze to the main entry. Eight men now stood there in the front doorway. They were rough and dirty looking, as if they had been traveling a while. Their clothing was torn in places that showed they had seen their share of physical fights. Several scars on their faces echoed that as well. The man standing at the front of their group had disheveled dark curly hair and sharp pale blue eyes. His skin was a deep tan from being outdoors and he wore two large rough hammered silver rings on his left hand. A Colt 45 was pressed against his stomach and its handle was carved with a charging bull and intricate vines.

The man nodded to one of the men behind him, but his eyes never stopped scanning the crowd of people in the saloon. The other man, slightly taller but with the same pale eyes stepped forward and walked directly to one of the other private side rooms. He yanked open the doors and inside a woman let off a scream of startled surprise.

Both Winchester brothers bristled and their hands stiffened near the guns at their hips. The leader of the men at the front saw this and shook his head, making a ‘tsk tsk tsk’ sound aimed at both Sam an Dean. His eyes slid over to direct their attention to the amount of firearms his men were wearing, many of which were already drawn and ready. Dean grit his teeth and let his gaze bore hard at their leader. The leader let a slow amused smile creep across his mouth in reply.

The other man, the one who had burst into the private room, was now dragging a red hair woman out. His hand firmly grappling her arm, he hauled her back across the saloon and shoved her into the group of men at the door. She let out a disgusted half scream, and they pulled her out with them as they began to leave.

Dean’s shoulders tensed up, and the leader saw this. He casually drew his gun out, flipped it around his finger once. The second it snapped into his palm, he fired. Dean and Sam both flinched as the rest of the saloon screamed and dove for cover. On stage, the piano player slumped over, shot dead in the side of his skull. The leader grinned and pointed at Dean, mouthing the words “That’s on you.” Then he brushed out of the door to follow his men.

The second the ruffians were gone, Dean and Sam were in motion running after them. Around them the saloon broke apart into chaos. Kian, Calvin and Ischen instantly fell into crowd control mode, moving swiftly to calm the panic. Behind them, Castiel darted out of their private room and fell into a run behind Sam and Dean.

The Winchesters hit the street first, just in time to see the men mounted on their horses, turning to ride off down the street. Dean planted his feet, drew his gun and took aim. Sam started to yell out to Dean to wait, but Dean squeezed off his shot first. The bullet sailed up the road and hit one of the men square in the back. The man seized up and tumbled off his horse.

Before the body had even hit the ground the other men had pulled up their horses and began to turn them around. Dean cocked his gun and fired again, this time a warning shot that sang just over the head of the leader.

The leader whistled loud and sharp, then spurred his horse into a full hard gallop straight at Dean. Behind him, his men followed, all their horses bearing down towards both Winchesters. One rider slung a grappling hook down, caught the body of the man Dean had shot and dragged it off and away behind his horse. A shot sang out then, and Dean found his hat plucked right off his head and sent skittering into the street. Sam yanked Dean back against the front wall of the saloon as the horses and the men on them thundered past, nearly crushing the brothers as they went. A moment later the men, their horses, the shot body and the red haired women were gone in a cloud of dust down the street.

Cough and choking, the brothers stumbled away from the wall into the street. Castiel came out, and went to them immediately. He tugged on Dean’s arm and pointed in the direction of the fleeing group.

“They took the mayor’s daughter….”Castiel looked at both brothers, “The bartender grabbed me on the way out and told me. And that group of men? The last woman they took….she was found days later with all the blood drained from her body.”

Sam heaved out catching his breath, “Vampires?!”

Dean wiped his hand over his face and looked down the road. His hat lay crumpled, pounded into the street, trampled by the horses. He walked over and bent down to retrieve it. He turned it over in his fingers and saw that the silver engraved “W” was bent beyond hope or help. Dean threw the hat down in frustration and exhaled.

“Son of a bitch!”

 

**(to be continued)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for the bandits from the saloon is on!

 

They didn’t waste any time. Sam settled up their bill with the saloon while Ischen and Calvin questioned the people the Mayor’s daughter had been socializing with in the other private room. They discovered that those within had just made the young lady’s acquaintance that evening and did not know her well.

Castiel and Kian tracked the hoof prints left from the retreating horses of the bandits to the edge of town and held there waiting for the others, while Dean rushed back to the hotel to gather weapons and hunting gear. By the time Sam and the Coopers arrived back at the hotel too, Dean had the horses and their funeral coach loaded and ready to go. When they met up with Kian and Castiel, and both of them were mounted up or seated, it was well after midnight.

The moon was pulling downwards, ducking behind cloud cover and making it difficult to see along the road leading from town. About half a mile out, they lost the hoof tracks they had been following and were forced to dismount. They fanned out in a large circle around the road, while Sam doubled back along the way they had come to see if they had missed a trail turn off. Twenty minutes later, Sam returned unsuccessful.

Dean kicked at the dirt in the center of the road and cursed under his breath. “Eight men on horseback do not just up and vanish in the middle of the road….”

Sam cleared his throat and gave a Dean a sideways glance, “Not usually… Maybe one of them knows witchcraft and hid their tracks that way.”

“I’m not sensing any spell work residue in the area Sam.” Castiel said in a flat tone while his eyes scanned the surrounding trees and brush.

“….Calvin love…what….?” Ischen was watching her husband trot back the way they had come, the same area Sam had just finished searching. The lanky Brit would walk several paces, and then he would lean into the brush and push through the branches. He repeated this several times and then came back.

Sam looked at him with mild annoyance, “There’s nothing there.”

Calvin replied brightly with a smile, “Yes. Exactly.” Which earned him a fully irritated look from Sam as a retort.

Calvin trotted up the road several feet and knelt down. He brushed his hands lightly over the dirt in the road for a moment and then looked back over his shoulder. His eyes were sharp and excited. “Might I have use of a lantern?”

Kian stepped quick to the back of the coach and retrieved a small lantern they had brought with them. He pulled up the wick and dug flint out from his pocket in his robes. In moments he had the wick alight with a small flame. He brought the glowing lantern to Calvin as the rest joined the enthusiastic new hunter where he knelt in the road. Calvin took the lantern and held it high over head as he stood up.

“There….see?” Calvin grinned.

“No…I don’t….” Dean began to say with frustration in his voice but he was cut off when Castiel said, “Yes of course.” Dean shot the angel a startled look and then followed along as Cas gestured to the road.

“There is a pattern in the surface of the road. There are slight scored wavering grooves in the dirt.” Cas explained.

Calvin turned to Dean and Sam’s searching faces and explained, “They still came this way….they hacked off branches from the shrubs and flora a bit back, then dragged them behind the horses to erase their tracks.”

“Of course!” Sam said, now seeing the pattern of the dragged leaves and branches in the road. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It just occurred to me that if I did not want someone trailing me, I would want a method of disguising my tracks. And I’d want to use something easily gained and easily discarded to get the job done.” Calvin removed his glasses and wiped them clean on the edge of his waist coat.

“So they just took from the surrounding trees and bushes….and you found where they removed them?” Dean raised a brow.

“Yes, back there. The marks where they hacked the smaller limbs free are lighter in shade than the other wood.” Calvin pointed back down the road from where they had come. “The only trouble is, we’ll have to make the rest of the way on foot if we are to see where they turned off the road ahead.”

“That won’t be necessary. I will be quite able to see when the pattern in the road shifts even on horseback.” Castiel leveled his now squinted gaze in Calvin’s direction, “You should douse the light to keep our approach unseen.”

A pleased smile crept over Dean’s face and he gave Castiel a lingering clasp to his shoulder, “Awesome. You don’t mind being on point Cas?”

“Not at all.” Castiel turned his gaze on Dean and it softened and warmed. “We should make haste however.”

“Yea.” Dean nodded and they all turned as a group to either mount their horses or take their place on the coach.

Once the lantern was put out, Castiel cantered to the front of the group and spurred his horse into medium gallop as he rode high in the saddle. His knees were bent and his back slightly curved, bringing his hips up off the saddle. This allowed him to keep his head forward next to his horses’ neck as his eyes scanned the road in front of him.

They traveled another half hour before Castiel pulled up on his horse and halted. The road continued ahead, but there were three smaller trails that branched off in different directions. One wound up through a cluster of rocks and threaded back into some stony hills. Castiel gestured that they follow this trail.

They traveled slower now, as the terrain was rougher and rockier. It wended its way in different directions frequently, and if not for the veiled moon hovering on the lip of the towering rock formations it would have been easy to become disoriented.

After another ten minutes the trail came up to the top of the rocky outcrops and began to descend down into a small valley area. But before they made their way over the crest to continue, Dean signaled that everyone stop and back up a bit. Once they had, he dismounted and came to stand next to the coach.

“We should probably go on foot from here on. And someone will need to stay with the horses, get them turned around and ready if we need to get the hell out of here fast.” Dean pulled one of his Colts from its holster and checked the number of bullets loaded within.

“I’ll stay.” Ischen said firmly and threw a hard stare at Dean that said she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Dean nodded and reholstered his gun, “Fine.” He gave a look to Calvin who was in the process of receiving the same look from his wife. “Cal…you staying with the missus or coming with us?”

“He’s going with you.” Ischen answered, and smiled at her husband.

Dean traded looks between the two, “Okay but….everyone’s mind in the game okay? No distractions. Right?”

“Right.” Calvin answered and drew one of the threshing scythes from the back of the coach.

Sam was already off his horse, armed and standing beside Kian near the edge of the road where it began to dip down. Dean pulled his longer scythe out from the coach and hiked up to join them. Castiel and Calvin not far behind, but when Cas reached Dean’s side he gently dropped his hand to tug on Dean’s sleeve.

“Dean,” Cas leaned in and lowered his voice, “We should probably split up and try flanking them…” He pointed away from them, down to the northern edge of the area where the light from a distant campfire could be seen.

Dean nodded with agreement, and looked at Sam. Sam nodded in return, flicked his eyes westward and Dean nodded in affirmation. Sam tapped Kian and Calvin on their shoulders, then indicated with a toss of his chin that they should follow him. Soon they had vanished into the brush on the western edge of the trail as it descended down into the valley.

Dean made to take a step eastward, to mimic his brothers tactic along the other side of the road when Castiel’s hand came up and tugged on his sleeve once more, holding Dean back. Dean turned to look over his shoulder at Cas, his brows knit together with silent questioning.

Without a sound Castiel’s other hand came up and cupped the side of Dean’s face, drawing Dean in for a possessive kiss. Castiel’s eyes closed and he leaned his body in, opening his lips and suckling on the hunter’s mouth. No sooner did Dean register what was happening, Castiel was pulling back, his lips slick from the kiss. “For luck.....” Cas whispered low and raspy, then pushed past Dean into the eastern thicket of bushes. Dean blinked once, heat flushing up along his cheeks and his heart picking up pace from the unexpected intimacy. He swallowed down his surprise and stepped gingerly into the brush behind Cas.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

The valley dipped down into a scrub brush rocky bowl and then flattened out before rising back up steeply on the northern side. A large cavern entrance yawned open along this steep face and around the entry the bandits had made their encampment. It also looked as if they made use of the cavern as well. Their horses were corralled loosely at the western edge and there were stacks of crates and supplies seated along the eastern edge. Both provided ample cover for the Winchester brothers and their companions on their approach.

Sam and Kian slipped along the edge of the make shift corral keeping low, with Calvin creeping not far behind them. Their weapons were drawn and handy as they paused just beyond the light of the large bonfire swirling and sparking in the center of the bandit’s camp.

Dean and Cas were wedged just behind a stack of crates and Cas nudged Dean once to point out one particular crate marked ‘explosives’. This in turn made Dean grin wide with mischief and while he began to carefully pry open the crate, Castiel slid around Dean to view the encampment.

The trail from the rocks lead right up into the center of camp to the bonfire. Around it, several tents were set up and six of the bandits from the saloon were seated around on boxes or large tree limbs. They were passing around a dark brown bottle, laughing and being rowdy. Two of the men began shouting at each other, and soon they were trading blows, tumbling over each other between one of the tents as they threw punches. As they fought, they scuffled closer to where Dean and Castiel were hidden.

“Dean!” Castiel whispered, “They’re human….”

“What?!” Dean crowded close to look over Castiel’s shoulder. The two men slugging it out were barely five feet from them, and both were grunting and sweating. Wet smacks of fist were hitting flesh and one man had knocked several teeth from the other’s mouth.

Cas gave Dean a quick sideways glance, “I have enough of my grace intact to be able to tell these are just human men.”

“Dammit. I knew we should have checked the bodies of the other victims first….” Dean let out a hushed sigh. He hefted one of the sticks of dynamite he had pulled from one of the crates and ran his thumb over some markings along its length, “The explosives? Dynamite. With Confederate markings.” He fingered the fuse sticking out of one end. “Wish I had my lighter….” He looked back up at Cas and said, “We still need to find that girl though.”

Castiel nodded and turned his attention to the entry way of the cavern. The two men who had been fighting were now being hauled up to the edge of the cavern and held firm by the other four men. The bandit leader was casually walking out of the cavern and behind him free and unhindered strode the red haired woman they had taken from the saloon.

Dean nudged Cas and whispered, “She doesn’t look like a prisoner does she?”

“No. And there is another man missing from the group.” Cas shifted his feet beneath himself to realign his center of gravity, preparing for a fight.

The red haired woman skirted past the bandit leader, giving him a sultry smile as she did. Then she walked to stand up in front of the two battered and bloodied men that had been fighting. She slithered her hand through the blood blotted down one man's shirt and licked her lips. Then she looked back at the bandit leader, as if waiting on him for something.

The bandit leader shook his head and scowled almost playfully, “I don’t think so…after you ran off on me? On us?” He spoke to the woman in a somewhat pouting tone.

“I did not run off Esteban.” She pursed her lips and batted her lashes at the bandit leader. “I was just talking to that nice banker….”

“No doubt. About the safe inside his bank yes? And the gold there.” Esteban the bandit leader raised a skeptical brow at the woman. “Do you take me a fool Marisol?” He speared her with a hard look and the earlier playfulness drained from his face.

Marisol, the woman, hissed at Esteban, “Look who thinks he is everything now.” She bared her teeth at Esteban and growled at him. Those teeth were long and jagged, and exactly the kind of fangs every single vampire the Winchesters had ever encountered kept in their hungry skulls. Without waiting, she whipped around and grabbed hold of the bloodiest man. She sank her fangs deep into the flesh of his shoulder with a gutteral moan.

“Marisol!” Esteban barked out angrily, but she ignored him and began to feed, pulling the man to the ground with her as she went. The other men backed away slightly, then sunk to their knees as if in reverence.

Esteban snarled, showing his own set of fangs before he turned his back on her, “If I had known how you would debase yourself all the time, I would have never let you turn me….” He said it all bitterly and then stalked back down into the cavern.

Stunned, Dean looked at Cas and mouthed ‘what the fuck?!’ while he tucked the stick of dynamite away into his jacket pocket with the other four he had snatched. When Cas didn’t reply and merely narrowed his eyes at Marisol, honing in on her with a fiercely determined look, Dean simply drew his guns.

“Okay, I’ll cover you. You gank the vamp chick.” Dean took in a fast breath then stood and began to fire at the ground around the kneeling men. Bullets danced around them in the dirt. They flinched and fell back, scrambling for their own firearms.

On the other side of the camp Sam ran out from behind one of the tents, repeater rifle in hand. He pulled off a shot into Marisol’s leg, then spun the rifle around in his hands. It was one smooth fluid motion as he cocked it loaded again, his eyes never leaving his target. She looked up in Sam’s direction in time to see him fire off a second shot into her shoulder.

“Sam!” Dean yelled as he leapt into the camp, guns blazing at the scattering bandits, “Did you see?!”

“We saw!” Sam called back as Kian tore around him, coming in fast and low with his scimitar flashing, heading directly for Marisol.

Behind them, the horses were pulling free and bucking frightened. Calvin held the small coral gate open to let them loose. The bandits scrabbled after the horses, Dean gave chase and Calvin followed.

Marisol was bent into a defensive pose now, her jaw dripping thick and rank with gore from her prey. She drew her talon barbed hands up as Kian came at her. Sam pegged her with another shot closer to her heart in her chest which caused her body to jerk but it didn’t seem to faze her. Then Kian was alongside her, passing her as his blade sang in an upwards arc into her torso. The blade sliced deep into her, and as Kian went he brought it up curving it into her chest to glance off her rubs. She screamed half in rage and half in pain as her hand raked hard down Kian’s shoulder and weapon’s arm. She peeled both skin and muscle from Kian, and blood splattered down though his torn robe. Kian growled in pain and stumbled sideways.

But the second they disengaged, Marisol froze. A look of shocked surprise riddled up over her face and her eyes went wide. She muttered something through her blood soaked lips and then….

Her head tipped forward and tumbled away from her body rolling across the camp. The rest of her body sank to its knees and then fell flat and lifeless with a thud to the ground. Kian turned and found Castiel held in a fighting stance, his back to Marisol’s body. Dean’s scythe was gripped in his hand and it coated with Marisol’s blood.

“I didn’t even see you….” Kian gaped, his eyes wide.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at Kian and simply placed his finger to his lips, “Shhhh.” Then Cas’s attention went to the entry of the cavern. “…the leader….”

Kian went to face the cavern as well, but then Sam’s hands were at his wounded shoulder, pressing a cloth compress down to staunch the bleeding. Sam held him fast, and nodded to Cas. Cas straightened up and moved with stealth into the cavern. Sam nudged Kian back towards one of the tents; his focus on Kian’s wound.

“But the other vampire….”Kian protested.

“Cas can handle him. We need to get the bleeding stopped….” Sam placed Kian’s hand over the compress to hold it there while he dug through the supplies in the tent. Finally he emerged with strips of fabric to tie the compress to Kian’s shoulder. As he was doing so, Dean and Calvin came jogging back into the camp. Calvin came to Kian and Sam, while Dean wandered over to nudge Marisol’s head with the toe of his boot.

“Cas inside after the other guys?” Dean flashed his eyes to the front of the cavern then back at Sam.

“Yea.” Sam said, still focused on Kian’s shoulder, and patching the wound up. “What about the other bandits?”

“Scattered. Terrified. They headed for the tree line after the horses.” Calvin answered. “Wait…there was just the leader left yes?”

Dean shook his head once, “There was one other. There were eight men at the saloon.”

Cas abruptly appeared at the entry to the cavern. He stepped out and into the bonfire light. Castiel’s face was sour and he looked to Marisol’s body, then to Kian. He gave Dean an apologetic look as he walked to the wounded man’s side. “Esteban is gone. I didn’t find him or the other man.” Castiel reported, “There is a back exit to the cavern with more horses stationed, and a wagon.”

“Dammit.” Dean ground his teeth. “Do you think we can track him?”

Cas was now beside Sam, looking at Kian’s wound as Sam lifted the compress for him. The two were conferring quietly about the gashes in Kian’s shoulder and arm while Kian and Calvin bounced their attention back and forth between Castiel and the brothers.

“Well?” Dean marched over, prepared to shove his face in between his angel and Sam.

Cas placed his hand gently against Kian’s open wound and Dean held still. Slowly faint white blue light hummed between Castiel’s open palm and the ragged bloody flesh of Kian’s shoulder. Kian inhaled sharp, and shut his eyes tight. Castiel held there, brow furrowed in focused concentration. After a moment, small beads of sweat began to dot Castiel’s forehead. Finally the light faded and he removed his hand. Sam inspected the wound, and then began to rebandage it.

Cas’s eyes flicked to Dean. He pulled a hankerchief from his pocket and began to blot his forehead, “I was able to heal the muscle tissue, but I don’t have enough in me to close the skin. He’ll require stitches. And yes we can track Esteban to a point. It’s very rocky through there and it won’t be easy. We should probably try in the daylight in a few hours.”

“Good then I can sew Kian up….” Sam walked over to where he had set his rifle down. “We can probably wait over along the tree line for dawn and...”

Suddenly gunfire rang out over the small valley. Bright pops of light pricked up away where the trail reached the edge of the rocky southern lip. Back the way they had originally come where Ischen was waiting with the horses. Calvin straightened as his faced paled. He broke into a sprint heading up the trail back to where the gunfire was now cracking out in loud barks.

“Ischen!!”

 

 

**(to be continued)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. "The God Hunters" and it's original characters are the property of E.G. Johnson.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester brothers and Castiel have been sent back in time to 1908 to help a new group of hunters become better trained to do their jobs. They've sorted out the zombie problem in Sanctuary Kansas, but not before ruining the entire town. Now they are near Tulsa, Oklahoma and dealing with a possible nest of vampires roaming as bandits across the North Eastern Oklahoma territories. Their ultimate goal is to reach New Orleans and deliver the new hunters to where their heavenly spirit guide has directed them.
> 
> If they could only take care of all these damn vampires first.

 

By the time Calvin, Dean and Castiel had run up to the crest of the trail, the shooting was over and they were met with an eerie silence hanging in the air. Calvin made to dart forward to go further up between the rocks but Dean stilled him with a grip to his arm. Dean held one finger up as he and Cas crept forward slowly. Castiel paused at the edge, listening.

After a moment he frowned and peered around the rock, removing his hat and leaning side ways to see more clearly. He held still a moment as he scanned the trail ahead, then straightened and looked back at Calvin and Dean with an oddly amused face. He beckoned them to follow as he vanished around the edge of the rock.

The sight that met their eyes made Dean’s mouth drop and Calvin heave out a breath of relief.

Ischen was sitting on the back of the coach, a rifle trained on two of the fleeing bandits who were now lying below her feet. Both of them were trussed up and bound in rope, sagging against the ground. They had obvious wounds on their ankles and were unconscious. The third man, the man that had not been in the camp but part of the bandit group was tied to one of the rear wheels of the coach with a torn off part of Ischen’s dress stuffed into his mouth. His eyes were wide and frantic, and they became more panicked when he saw Calvin, Dean and Castiel approach.

“Shenny…you’re alright?” Calvin hesitated a moment before stepping around the bandits at his wife’s feet to climb up and sit alongside her.

“Yes just fine. How did it go down there? Is the girl safe? Where are Kian and Samuel?” She was chipper, but her hair was mussed and she had dirt and blood smudged along her cheek. Her dress was scuffed and dirty, and a large portion of the hem of her dress was ripped away.

“Kian was hurt but Sam is tending him….The girl turned out to be one of the vampires.” Calvin gestured around them, “What happened here?!” His hands moved to her shoulders, tender and comforting as his eyes lingered on the ripped edge of her clothing.

Dean smirked, “Looks like she handled it.” He winked at Ischen and smiled proudly at her.

Ischen sat a bit straighter and nodded once in a very lady like manner to Dean before turning her dark eyes to her husband. “I bought bear traps the other day….they were here in the coach where I stashed them.” She directed everyone’s attention to two bloodied bear traps in a discarded heap alongside the trail. “After I turned the horses around, I set the traps at the crest of the trail in case we had any stragglers like last time. I knew they would be forced to come through between the rocks there. Once they were set, I climbed up there….”She pointed to a high out crop of rock, “To keep watch. If you had returned first I would have been able to warn you about the traps. Caught some bandits instead.” Ischen shrugged demurely, and then a pleased smile came over her face. “But THAT man….” She pointed to the bandit tied to the wheel, “Came at me while I was securing the other two.”

Dean lifted one eye brow, “And?”

“And I gingerly made him acquainted with the butt of my rifle.” Ischen’s smile became a self-satisfied half smirk, and she moved one hand up to smooth and pat down a bit of the back of her hair. The gesture reminded Dean so much of Mary Poppins that he had to take a step back and cover his grin with his hand.

During this exchange, Castiel had walked over to stand in front of the man lashed to the coach wheel. He was scrutinizing the man’s face, and the terrified man was trembling where he sat. The man’s eyes were held open so wide that the whites rimmed his pale blue eyes all the way around. Castiel narrowed his gaze and leaned in just a bit, and it made the man flinch.

Dean stepped up behind Castiel, his amusement at Ischen rolling over to Cas as he watched the angel mess with the guy. “Don’t give him a heart attack there Cas.”

“I doubt that would be possible. This man is also a vampire. He can sense I’m not human but he doesn’t know what I am. Hence, his fear.” Cas stood up slowly, never taking his eyes off the man. Cas placed his hat back on his head and tipped it down, giving himself a menacing air. “This is when we play ‘good cop bad cop’ to extract information is it not Dean?”

Dean choked down the laugh coming up from his chest and he clasped Castiel gently on the shoulder. “Why don’t we get the coach and the horses back down to Sam and Kian….we can um.…interrogate the prisoner later. Let’s load these dirt bags up and get moving.”

Castiel gave Dean a somber nod and if it was possible, squint his eyes tighter as he lanced the vampire with a hard stare. Dean had to bite the inside of his lip and move away as Castiel removed the rope holding the vampire to the wheel, and rebound the knots so they could haul him into the back end of the coach. Dean did not catch the slightly irritated look Cas shot him as he made his way to pick up one of the other bandits off the ground.

Soon the bandits and the vampire were loaded into the back of the coach, along with the bear traps and Castiel as well to keep his hawkish eyes on everything. Calvin drove the coach alongside Ischen and Dean brought along the three horses. Dean rode just behind the coach, occasionally trading glances with Cas and Cas not hiding his displeasure with Dean’s amused smiles. The best Dean could do was bite into the inside of his cheek and tip his beat up hat low in the front to hide the mirth in his eyes.

Thankfully they were down in the heart of the deserted bandit camp in no time. While Calvin and Dean brought all their horses into the small corral, Sam and Castiel hauled the captured men to rest near the bonfire. The vampire they sat beside the carcass of the late Marisol. Dean dropped Marisol’s head into the trussed up vampire’s lap before he wandered off to check on Sam and Kian.

Kian was patched up, but it was apparent that he wouldn’t be able to use his sword arm for a while. It would just take a few days for the skin to knit back together, and even more for it to heal fully. Sam was pretty certain Kian would have an impressive scar to keep as a reminder.

“You three have come a long way in the last week or so….” Sam said encouragingly as he and Kian went to sit near the still smoldering bonfire.

“You, your brother and Castiel have helped us a great deal Sam, and for that we will be forever grateful.” Kian rested his warm dark eyes on Sam’s face, and they were filled with gratitude.

“No reason to thank us. All you needed was a little confidence boost. You all had most of the skills you needed already.” Sam chuckled and gave Kian a friendly pat on the back, but noted how the man’s dark eyes lingered, drinking in Sam’s tall form from head to toe and not hiding his desire. Sam smiled a little nervously and said, “You’re kind of a flirt aren’t you Kian?”

“He is.” Ischen came and sat next to Kian, “At least by western standards. In his home tribe, pleasure sought between two consenting adults was nothing to be ashamed of, but instead was celebrated and enjoyed.” She gave an understanding smile to her friend and then looked at Sam, “Even between those of the same sex. It was similar in Cairo as well for a long time. Even the ancient Egyptians had no issue and often the Pharaohs and kings had concubines both female and male. And we all know about the Greeks and the Romans.”

“Oh. Right....yea....” Sam shifted on the log he was seated at.

Calvin and Dean were coming over to the bonfire now and as Calvin overheard his wife’s statement, he let out a small laugh, “I’ve been informed by my worldly wife that prudish notions about sex are the fault of Puritans and the Victorian Empire…..That the Hindi with their Kama Sutra are more civilized than the British.”His face was full of amusement as he sat behind Ischen and pulled her against him so her back rested against his chest. He then wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“I guess I can only speak for myself…..” Sam pulled off his hat and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, “I never think of myself as a prude but….” He sat so his elbows rested against his knees, “I just kind of need an emotional connection on some level, you know? To be….um….”

“Freaky-deeky.” Dean grinned and plopped down on the ground beside Sam, his back against the log Sam sat on.

“Dean….” Sam exhaled a weary sound.

“What? I’m with Ischen and Kian. Sex feels good. If someone is willing and cool about it, you go for it.” Dean chuckled, “Life is too short man. You gotta get with what feels good when you can.”

“Speaking of….” Sam smirked and shoved the toe of his boot against Dean’s hip, “Where’s Cas?”

Dean’s cheeks burned red and he threw a glare at Sam, then realized Castiel wasn’t seated at the bonfire. He sat up and took a quick survey of the camp, and the Coopers and Kian followed suit. They discovered Castiel over with their horses, feeding them and stroking their flanks. Tending to them gently and talking to them in low hushed tones.

Satisfied, Dean sat back again, and dragged his crumpled hat from his head. “We probably have another hour or two before daylight….” He nodded to the Coopers and to Kian, “You three should grab a tent and get a nap in before we head out after the last vampire.”

The new hunters agreed. They said small salutations and then went to rest in two of the tents. Sam stood up as well, and lumbered over to a different tent, collapsing inside to get in a small amount of sleep.  Dean lean forward and poked the fire a few times with a nearby stick, then stood to wander over into the horse corral with Castiel.

“You should rest as well Dean.” Cas said quietly as he ran his hand along the side of Sam’s grey draft horse.

“Nah, I’m good…..” Dean stretched and stepped alongside Cas, “I’d rather come hang out with you. How are you holding up?”

Castiel’s stoic look turned down a little, “I should be at full power by now but I am not. It’s as if something is blocking my grace. I can heal….to a point. I could possibly handle a demon or two…but….I am unable to transport myself from place to place with a thought as I am capable of doing back in our normal time.” Cas turned his eyes to Dean and they were weighed down with worry, “I don’t think I will be able to bring us back Dean.”

Dean reached up and ran two fingers along Castiel’s jaw, their previous antagonistic banter forgotten.  “It’ll be okay Cas. We’ll figure it out. I pretty much thought we’d get the Coopers and Kian to New Orleans and then we’d part company with them there. There is a whole big world out there, we can go through every library and the answer to getting us all back has to be….”

Castiel cut him off by sealing their lips together, his hands bunched tight into the lapels of Dean’s outer coat. Cas pulled back for half a breath and then he and Dean were coming together mutually, their mouths finding each other in the heated exchange. Dean’s hands were quickly in Castiel’s hair, or slipping back under his coat and jacket to rub against Cas’s back. Castiel’s hands had let go of the lapels to hold Dean’s face, thumbs stroking against Dean’s cheek and the edge of his brow. They stepped into each other, legs lacing in between legs, hips titling and pressing. They compressed their bodies together with an almost fumbling urgency, and when one dragged his hips in a stuttering grind against the other they both trembled out a throaty groan.

“C…Cas….” Dean breathed out and clutched Castiel against him, the both of them wavering on their feet. They were getting heady from the surge of endorphins and the hot thrum of blood coursing through their veins, “Not a good place to do this y’know…” Dean chuckled out but his voice was rough and low. He dragged his lips in a slow open mouthed kiss across Castiel’s cheek anyway.

“I know Dean….I just….” A deep tremor shook up through Castiel’s body and he pulled back reluctantly, releasing Dean from his hands, “….wanted you.”

The deep wash of warmth radiating from Castiel’s eyes made Dean nearly toss caution and sanity out the window to drag Cas off into one of the tents to make them both sweaty and spent waiting for dawn’s light. He hadn’t released his hold on Castiel yet, and he used his still fevered grip to yank Cas back against him. It placed his mouth at Cas’s ear, and Cas in tandem on the other side of Dean’s head.

“Man, Cas…..you have no idea…..”Dean dipped his mouth in to swipe down the side of Castiel’s neck, “…how much….I want you too.”

“Dean…” Castiel very nearly whimpered against Dean’s ear, but then he firmly placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders and deftly brought Dean at arm’s length to stand apart, “The vampire…..”

Dean let out a defeated sigh, “Okay….okay….” He held his hands up in surrender and stepped back somewhat awkwardly, shifted his stance to accommodate the stiff erection in his trousers. A smile crept over his face, accented by the cherry tint on his cheeks, “But you owe me now….”

If Castiel blushed any deeper, he would be glowing like a flare. A smile came over his own face, echoing Dean’s and he dropped his head to nod a little, “How do you figure that?” He said teasingly.

Dean gave him a playfully warning look, and brought his finger up to wag in Castiel’s direction. “You started this….both back on the trail and now here and….”

Cas lifted his head up, and tipping his chin a little higher, gauging Dean for a moment as his smile melted into something else. Something wicked. In a flash he had a hold of Dean’s finger, and his hand, and he jerked Dean close. He held Dean with one hand against the back of Dean’s neck, and pressed his mouth against Dean’s ear, “You’re correct. And you’re infuriating Dean Winchester. But I’ll make it worth the wait. Trust me.” Castiel’s deep voice resonated down through Dean’s throat and into his chest. Then just as quickly as he had grabbed hold, he let go of Dean and stepped back. He speared Dean with one of the classic intense looks he had been giving Dean for as long as Dean could remember. Then Cas turned and walked back toward the bonfire to keep an eye on their vampire prisoner.

Dean stood there a long moment, his eyes lit up like green neon and his brows so high they nearly touched his hair line. He swallowed, mumbled incoherently once and then huffed helplessly. He stretched his neck from side to side and then straightened his waistcoat in the front and in the back.

Dean drew in a long deep breath and then let it back out again slowly.

“I swear Cas….one of these days…..”

 

**(to be continued)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. "The God Hunters" and it's original characters are the property of E.G. Johnson.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after locating and taking the bandits camp places their vampire prisoner in a chatty mood, and the hunters learn this may be bigger than a simple nest of vampires roaming over the Oklahoma Territories.

 

 

Sunlight came trickling with tiny white gold fingers through the tree tops on the edge of the hills to the camp’s east, and with it brought the unabashed whimpering of their vampire prisoner as he pressed himself low against a nearby log, trying to keep the sun from touching him.

Dean merely scoffed quietly at the man as he set up to make a light breakfast, beginning to heat water in a dented pot to make coffee, “Dude, you know that sunshine doesn’t actually do much to you guys beyond giving you a bit of a rough burn and a headache. You’ll live.” Dean centered the pot over the fire, “You won’t enjoy it but you’ll live.”

The vampire looked at Dean with weary and frightened watery eyes, “That’s not what Marisol told us when she made us….”

“Yea well, bitch lied.” Dean hefted an iron skillet to rest at the edge of the fire on several stones and pulled a few eggs from his pack. He cracked them and emptied the insides on the skillet and then grabbed a wooden spoon from the pack and began slurring the eggs into a rough mess of a scramble. “The only way you can die is if we take your head off.”

Dean didn’t have to look to know that the vampire was eyeing Marisol’s headless body or her head that was tumbled nearby. “So tell me,” Dean continued, “How did you meet up with Marisol anyway?”

The vampire shifted uneasily, sitting up and cringing as the sun slipped against his shoulder even though nothing happened. “We were in Texas, in Amarillo. Esteban wanted to take the bank. She was one of the girls at the whorehouse when we went in. She told him that she could get him more gold than he’d ever dreamed of….make him faster, stronger. Powerful.” The vampire sniffed in despair, “He listened to her.”

Dean lifted a brow and continued to stir the eggs, “How’d she get to be the Mayor’s daughter?!”

“Marisol seduced him, told him she would turn him as well if he pretended she was his daughter from back east come home to stay….She wanted the town, the bank, all of it.” The vampire slumped against the log, “She was just using Esteban and I, and our men.”

“Ambitious wasn’t she?” Dean smirked.

“Oh she wasn’t doing it for herself.” The vampire said quickly, his voice trembling.

“Oh?” Dean looked at the vampire fully then.

“She said it was in tribute….for her Queen. To take the town and bring her souls to make her more powerful. To begin to build her a kingdom on Earth.” The vampire looked at Dean with red rimmed frightened eyes.

“This Queen got a name?” Dean asked.

“Meek-tekka-kee-wadle” the vampire whispered and kept his voice low as if someone might be listening to them.

“Meekatekka-who?” Dean winced, feeling his gut tighten up as he realized it sounded dreafully like the Aztec god they had tangled with back in Kansas.

“Mictecacihuatl” Castiel came and stood near Dean. In his hands he held a leather bound scroll, it’s ties unfurled and open, “The wife of the Aztec god Mictlantecuhtli…whom the Coopers and Kian dispatched in Sanctuary.” Cas hefted the scroll, “I found this inside the cavern among their possessions. It’s a Conquistador account of finding an Aztec temple and plundering it, and it details many of the pictograms that were carved on it’s interior.”

Dean looked from the scroll in Cas’s hands up to Cas’s face, “Cas, the Missus is the one that walked into the room and dropped you like a disc jockey droppin’ the bass….”

Castiel just speared Dean with his usual stoic look, “Dean. I’ve had enough of your odd colloquialisms.”

“The woman in the parrot feathers that knocked your brain out, the one who followed in after Michy-lanty-coo-coo sicced his zombie pals on us.” Dean pulled the skillet off the fire to keep the eggs from burning.

“Mictecacihuatl. I remember. Death said she was just looking for her husband.” Castiel looked down to the scroll in his hands, “Death could have been lying.”

“Or he just didn’t know what Meka Leka Hi Meka Hiney Ho was really doing there.” Dean replied.

“This can’t be good. I should read this scroll and find out more about what the Conquistador’s did in that temple.” Castiel nodded and began to open the scroll, moving aside to take a seat on the ground near Dean.

“Esteban…you mean to find him and stop him don’t you?” the vampire injected then.

Dean looked over and said with sarcasm, “I don’t supposed you want to help us with that huh?”

To Dean’s shock, the vampire nodded his head yes with enthusiasm, “I will. I didn’t want this path. I just want us to go home, back to Mexico. I don’t want the gold. I don’t want the town. I just want my brother and for us to go home!”

“Your brother?” Dean’s mouth dropped open, “Esteban is your brother?!”

“I am Julio Castegartes. Esteban is my brother, yes.” Julio looked to Dean, “You’ve killed Marisol, you can turn us back... back into normal men.... when we find Esteban, yes?” the vampire was bent low, his bonds pulling his arms behind his back and the pleading look on his face made him appear as if he was begging Dean for salvation.

Dean was about to answer when the Coopers came out of the tent they were using. Dean looked to the couple and smiled with a nod, then his gaze tugged over to Cas. Castiel caught Dean’s look and he gave Dean a light shrug in return. Cas lifted his chin and looked at Marisol’s body, then back at Dean with another nod.

“Please…!” Julio leaned forward more, his eyes watering as he looked at Dean.

Dean stood and wiped his hands along his pant legs. Memories of a time when he himself had been a vampire, and how Samuel Campbell and Sam had managed to bring him back from that came flooding into his head. They had the blood of the vampire that made Julio and Esteban. They could in theory try that potion again. “I don’t want to make any promises to you Julio….but…..” Dean let out a breath, “We’ll try.”

Julio bent over in relief, curling down and pressing his forehead to the ground, “Esteban will be back in town….at our meeting place at The Black Gold saloon. He’ll be there. He’ll be there. You will find him there."

Dean looked away uncomfortably and glanced back at Castiel. Castiel’s eyes were gentle and warm, and proud. Conveying he not only approved that Dean was willing to consider compassion, but maybe they would all be better for it in the end. Dean just nodded and pulled his bandana off his neck, and used it to pull the boiling pot of water off the fire. He busied himself preparing coffee and the rest of breakfast for everyone.

Soon everyone was gathered around the fire eating and talking quietly about the previous night’s events, and about how they would be able to find Esteban now. After breakfast Sam checked Kian’s bandages once, and then everyone went about preparing to head back to town. The captured bandits and Julio were loaded into the back of the coach with the idea that Ischen would be keeping her rifle trained on them until they reached the Sheriff’s offices. While this was happening, Dean collected what he needed from Marisol’s body, then heaved it, her head and the dead men onto the camp’s fire to let it consume them. As everyone was beginning to mount up and take their places for the ride back, Dean asked to have everyone’s attention for a moment.

“There is one other thing….” Dean looked to Cas once, then directly at Calvin, Ischen and Kian, “We may have another rogue god on our hands.” The God hunters looked puzzled, especially Kian. Dean continued, “Julio told us that Marisol was working to take over Tulsa for Meeka-teekee…”

“Mictecacihuatl” Cas volunteered.

“Yea thanks Cas….the wife of the Aztec nut job you guys took care of in Sanctuary. Kian are you sure you haven’t had anything about her ping on your radar?” Dean asked.

“What is …..radar?” Kian looked lost.

Dean sighed and mumbled low about 'why does no one get his references' and then said, “Nothing has been said about the Aztec Wife God on your chats with your spirit guide?”

“No. Nothing.” Kian frowned.

“It’s possible that if she’s been employing other supernatural beings to do her work for her, she wouldn’t draw our kind of attention to herself….” Calvin speculated.

“That’s a good point.” Sam said, his hands stroking over the forehead of his horse, the large grey draft. “You were called directly to Mictlantecuhtli because he was actively making zombies in the cemetery there. He was using his powers. That’s probably what Kian senses. If the wife isn’t using her powers, but instead is having others do her dirty work, she wouldn’t draw the same attention as her husband.”

Dean nodded at his brother, “Maybe that was the point.”

“What do you mean?” Ischen narrowed her eyes at Dean, as if she was picking up on his thought process but wanted confirmation.

“Maybe Sanctuary was a test. Get the hubby to mess around in a little town, draw you three out, see how your powers work, get a feel for you and what you do. I mean, you three are the only ones who could take her down right now.” Dean shifted his stance and let his hands drop to his sides.

“Dean’s correct. There are no angels in this time slot on Earth who would be able or effective in dealing with Mictecacihuatl except Gabriel and I doubt he’s even in this hemisphere at this time.” Castiel injected.

“I see now why you were sent to us.” Kian said softly. “If we had not met you Winchesters,  we would have gone right past all this unaware and failed once more in our duties.”

“You just needed to be shown what to look for and how to look for it….” Sam said encouragingly, “Now you know, you’ll be able to pick up on things….”

Kian gave Sam a grateful smile and then turned, “We should be on our way then, find Esteban and continue the investigation.”

A round of affirmative nods went through the group and they mounted up. They pulled away from the camp, followed the trail back up through the rocks and then back to the main road. The sun was somewhat high in the sky and the day was bright and breezy.

When they were half way back to town, Castiel dropped back a bit from the group and rode in solitude, his head bowed in thought. Dean noticed immediately, but let Cas have some time to himself for a while. Eventually he dropped back as well, and trotted his horse up next to Castiel’s. He nudged the angel gently boot to boot before dipping his head down to catch Cas’s gaze.

Cas looked pained a moment and then met Dean’s eyes. “It’s….Gabriel.”

“Go on.” Dean said gently.

“He’s here….walking the Earth somewhere. In his vessel.” Castiel’s face was a mix of sorrow and hope.

“Balthezar too?” Dean asked.

“No, not yet.” Cas shifted in his saddle.

“Cas do you want to try to find Gabriel?” Dean lifted his brows, beginning to wonder if feeling the loss of all his angelic brethren was weighing heavier than usual on Castiel’s mind.

“They are all alive….now…in this place in history.” Castiel finally leveled his gaze directly at Dean. “All of them. Alive. In heaven. And Gabriel is alive, here, somewhere. So yes. I do.”

“Okay. Actually…that would probably be smart. You said you didn’t think you could take us back to our timeline, maybe he can. And maybe…you know….” Dean gave an awkward shrug, “Give him a little heads up about what happens in the future.”

“He probably already knows….” Castiel let his eyes fall to his hands, his fingers clasped to the saddle horn tightly.

“Well…good. Then he’ll know we are coming and he’ll know not to bother hiding from us.” Dean pulled out a grin, “He loved picking on Sam an’ me. That bastard'll be so happy.”

“I hope you’re right Dean.” Cas brought his deep blue eyes back to Dean’s, “And ….thank you Dean.”

Dean said nothing with his words and allowed what was in his head and in his heart for Cas just shine out through his eyes and his smile instead. They rode side by side the rest of the way without needing to discuss it further, but once when Dean wasn’t looking, Castiel gazed at Dean with such love in his eyes for the hunter it would have stopped Dean’s breath deep in his chest to see it.

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things move fast once our team returns to Tulsa. The bandits seem to be one step ahead of the Winchesters and Castiel makes an alarming discovery.
> 
>  

 

 

The group split up when they reached the edge of town. Sam and Dean slung the captive bandits over their horses and headed for the Sheriff’s office to turn the men in. Ischen and Calvin took the coach and Cas’s horse back to their hotel to unload everything and restock on ammunition. Kian and Castiel took Julio with them into one of the rooms at their hotel and secured him to the heaviest piece of furniture there. Kian remained to watch over Julio while Castiel went to scope out the Black Gold saloon on the other side of town. Before he went however, Julio informed him that the Black Gold saloon was a rougher saloon frequented by oil derrick workers and laborers, lower cast men who went there to drink hard and play rough.

When Castiel made it to that part of the city and stood across the street in front of a shoemaker’s shop, it was barely three o’clock in the afternoon and already the place was crowded and rowdy. He made his way to the back of the saloon to slip in through a storage window, and then past several hidden poker games tucked away from prying eyes. Cas skirted past these barely giving them a glance when it was obvious that Esteban was not one of the players. Castiel arrived at one of the back doorways that lead through to emerge from behind the bar and hovered there. The interior was thick with men drinking, singing drunkenly and crammed around tables. The bar was cramped with bodies as well, but Castiel was able to pick out Esteban at the other end.

He was standing and leaning at the bar, slowly nursing a small copper mug of some unseen liquid. Near him were two of his men that had escaped the previous night. With them were four new men, and Castiel noted that none of them were vampires, simply human men. Mostly the men talked around Esteban as the leader seemed completely swallowed within his own thoughts and his attention was focused more on his drink than what was taking place around him.

Castiel slipped unseen back out the way he came, and moved around to wait in front of the shoemaker’s shop once more.  As e waited for the Winchesters and the others to arrive, he leaned against one of the wood posts holding up the awning to the shop. He began to work a large sliver of wood free from the post with his fingers as his eyes kept watch on the entry to the saloon.

Twenty minutes later Esteban and the men emerged from the saloon to stand in a group talking just near where Castiel stood. Cas leaned back into the shadows created by the awning and listened as they spoke.

“You all understand what you must do, yes?” Esteban said, he voice sober and serious.

“But what about Julio? Shouldn’t we wait for him? We weren’t even supposed to hit the bank until the fifteenth of next month.” One of the men said.

Esteban paced in a tight circle for a moment, then flashed his pale blue eyes at the men. His gaze was hard and unwavering. “No. We do this now. As the bank is closing. Before anything else goes wrong.”

The men nodded in understanding, then split up in different directions. Esteban remained, scuffing his boot against the ground a moment, looking down. Then when his men were gone he spoke once more. “I don’t know who you are….but there is nothing you can do to stop this now….” He lifted his head and looked right at Castiel, and he grinned. It held no warmth.

Cas moved out of the shadows and returned Esteban’s gaze with a cold narrow stare, “You’re very confident.”

“Yes I am. I have good reason to be.” Esteban let his eyes roam over Castiel, appraising the guns at Cas’s hips and how Cas stood with unthreatened ease, “You are a man used to battle, used to strategies and plans..... I can tell. So I will only say this once….” He leaned in closer as if to whisper it to Cas as a secret, “You can kill me. You can burn away those men that were just here….but it will all still happen.”

Esteban leaned back away, and let a delighted smile play across his face. When Castiel said nothing, Esteban nodded to himself, as if pleased with some inner idea. Then in a taunting voice he said, “I have planned for everything….Angel. Even you…..” He raised one hand, snapped his fingers and murmured “tocatl”. In the next instant his body was breaking apart into smaller dark pieces. It crumbled down to the ground into hundreds of thousands of tiny black spiders, and those spiders skittered and ran in every direction away from Castiel.

Cas did not wait for them all to disperse. He turned and at eyelevel with the post he had been leaning on, he stuck the wood shard his hand dug from the post into its surface, sticking it out at a hard angle so it pointed down the street. Then he took off running in that direction, chasing after one of Esteban’s men who had went that way.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When the Winchesters jogged up to the front of the Black Gold saloon, they broke into several groups quickly. Sam and Dean peeled off to check the back to see if Castiel was there, while Calvin and Kian entered the front of the saloon. Ischen took up a spot in front of the shoemakers building under the awning. Soon all the men were back, converging to where Ischen waited.

“He’s not here….he’s not anywhere..” Dean blurted out, the anxiousness rising in his eyes. “Kian…do your walkie-talkie thing with your grandfather and ask him where Cas is…”

“My what? Dean…I can’t just summon my Grandfather to guide me with a snap of the fingers. I need to meditate and clear my mind and….”Kian explained, his brow pulling together as he did.

Ischen reached out and tapped Dean firmly but gently on his shoulder. When he whirled around to look at her, she deftly pointed at the bit of wood that was poking at an odd angle from the post next to her. When Dean just looked befuddled and angry, she clasped a hold of his jaw and carefully shoved his face closer to the piece of wood. There, scratched into the surface of the wood was “D.W.” Dean’s head swiveled around following the direction the wood bit was pointing in.

Calvin spoke up, “One of the three banks in town is located down that way…..you don’t think they are hitting it now do you?”

“Let’s not wait around to find out….” Dean growled and took off on foot in that direction, the same way the wood Castiel left was directing them.

In moments they were down the street near the front of the First Bank of Tulsa. The street opened up in front of the bank, creating a wide circular space that held a small fountain and flowers in its center. Around the street here were shops and another hotel. Opposite from the bank was a new white church, its sides gleaming from fresh paint. Alongside it was another garden surrounded by a simple iron work fence. It was here, standing just inside the fence that they found Castiel.

“Cas!”

“Dean, everyone, come into the cemetery now!” Castiel’s face was a balance of alert tension and cautious fear.

“Cemetary….?” Dean pivoted on one heel to look around the area, confusion on his face.

Sam, understanding Castiel lept immediately over the small ironwork fence to stand near Cas, “Dean….here….it’s a new church so no one is buried here yet….but it’s consecrated ground.” He nailed Dean with a ‘don’t be ridiculous’ look and helped Ischen step over the fence into the garden. Calvin and Kian did so as well.

Dean hopped over the fence and took a quick survey of the garden, the side of the church, and then back to the bank a moment before returning his attention to Castiel.

“I don’t believe Esteban is Esteban anymore….or if he is, he’s moved well beyond the usual vampiric stage of existence.” Cas stood, agitated. His hands on his hips but his fingers edged against the handles of his six-guns.

“What happened?” Sam asked, his eyes on the bank across the street. It appeared to be devoid of any activity. Even the street was barren.

Castiel told them about finding Esteban, about how he over heard that they were robbing the bank as it closed and about his conversation with the leader. He also told them how Esteban had managed to shape shift into hundreds of thousands of tiny spiders. Sam and Calvin both cringed visibly at that.

“Great. Just…great.” Dean sighed, then looked back at the bank, “So are they here?”

“Two of the men are. One is over on that roof over there, on top of the hotel watching the bank guards do their final rounds walking the perimeter of the bank. The other man went….” Cas never got to finish.

“Wait…you said bank guards were walking around the outside of the bank?!” a light went on inside Dean’s eyes.

“What are you thinking Dean?” Sam leaned in to meet his brother’s eyes.

“I can’t believe this….Clint Eastwood movie….A Few Dollars More….” Dean beamed brightly.

Sam groaned, “Dean…not now!”

“No listen….in the movie this gang goes to rob a bank, and that bank has guards walking the perimeter of the bank like this one….”Dean smiled wider.

“So?” Sam rolled his eyes, “That was a movie Dean.”

“Cas…the other man, where did he go?” Dean looked excitedly at Castiel.

“He went around to the rear of the bank after the guards passed….” Castiel squint his eyes and titled his head as looked back at Dean, “Why?”

“They are going to blow a hole in the back of the bank and just remove the entire bank safe. They aren’t going to bother trying to get in through the front locked doors. They are just going to bypass all that, yank the safe out of the hole in the back….that’s what all the dynamite was for! To blow the wall open.” Dean was positively glowing. His eyes were shining and the smile on his face was voluminous deeply pleased with himself he was.

“That’s….” Sam let out a small huff of astonished breath, “…..that’s brilliant.”

“C’mon…we can stop them!” Dean turned and was about to leap over the iron fence when Cas grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Castiel dug his fingers into the fabric of Dean’s clothing like he was holding on for his life, or Dean's life.

“What is it Cas?” Dean took measure of the weight of Castiel’s eyes and the pained look on Castiel’s face.

“I can’t leave the cemetery.” Cas said plainly.

“What?!” came a response from the rest. Dean however stayed silent.

He stepped closer to Cas, and carefully, gently, placed his hand over where Cas gripped him. “What is it Cas?” he asked again.

“A spell, or warding… I am unsure. But if I am not standing on hallowed ground I’ll be sent off.” Castiel’s eyes went wider.

“Like the angel banishing sigil you taught me?” Dean now sounded worried, and his hand tightened visibly over Castiel’s.

“Yes. And I don’t know what the consequences would be. I’m cut off from heaven here and unable to teleport. I don’t know where it would send me or even if I would be able to return here.” Castiel dropped his eyes, “I felt the area being swallowed by the banishing force and was able to jump into the cemetery…safe…at the last moment. It appears to repel the affect."

“It’s a good thing this church was here….” Sam looked up, his eyes following the new steeple that stretched up into the sky.

“The Lord provides.” Kian said quietly with a smile.

Dean ignored them and pulled closer to Castiel, “Then you stay here. You stay here and stay safe. I’ll take care of this son of a bitch…” Dean tugged possessively on Castiel’s hand then.

“Dean….he said he had planned for everything already….that if you killed him, everything would happen anyway.” Castiel’s deep blue eyes peaked into a worried look and he pulled on Dean’s clothing so they were pressed against each other.

Dean took his free hand and ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair once, his fingers combing through in a slow soothing manner, “They all say that Cas, and then you, me and Sam come along and prove them wrong. Yea?” Castiel nodded in reply and closed his eyes. With another pass of Dean’s hand all the tension in Castiel’s face eased, and he let his hold on Dean’s clothes go slack. “Yes.” Dean hesitated a moment then threw reservations aside and planted a warm kiss to Castiel’s temple. “Stay here with Kian and Calvin. Get up into that steeple if you need to. Sam and Ischen will come with me. She’s the Binder, if we run into Mee-kee-tee-kee…”

“Mictecacihuatl” Cas corrected softly.

“Yea that….. Ischen can bind and hold her.” Dean let go of Castiel and stepped back. Cas opened his eyes, his gaze calmer now. Dean winked once at Cas, “Plus you’ve got your Calvary guns, longer range than a normal pistol….you can get shots off from a distance.” Castiel gave a nod in affirmation.

A moment later Sam, Dean and Ischen were running along the front of the church, using it and the other shops as cover to keep from being seen by the look out on the hotel roof. They slipped alongside the bank and hurried to the back of the bank. Sam in the lead paused to cautiously peer around the corner to take stock of what was going on there.

No sooner had he leaned around, the bank and the ground around them shook with a violent jerk. Dirt and debris flew through the air around the corner forcing Sam to duck back, huddling with Dean and Ischen as the explosion’s blast wave slammed around the edge of the bank a second later. After that, smoke choked the air around them and shrouded the area making it impossible to see.

But they were too late. The bank was already being robbed.

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bandits have the safe, and Esteban is no where to be seen yet. The confrontation with the Aztec Goddess of the Underworld escalates and Death has a few words to say about it all.
> 
> (authors aside: I was listening to Juno Reactor's "God is God", "Hotaka" and "Navras" as I wrote this. I regret nothing.)

 

It took a moment for the thick acrid smoke from the explosion to dissipate and thin away. Dean’s eyes stung and were watering. Beside him, Ischen was rubbing her eyes against her sleeve and coughing. On his other side, Sam had yanked up the bandana he wore around his throat to cover his own mouth. He was blinking tears from his eyes and fanning the smoke away from them as best as he could with his hat. Sam tapped Dean’s arm, nudged his head in the direction of the explosion and drew his army revolver with his free hand. Dean nodded in return, pulling his own kerchief up to wipe his eyes, then drawing his guns. He glanced back to Ischen and nudged her as Sam had done him. Her dark eyes came up, red rimmed and angry. She nodded she was ready and the three of them came around the edge of the bank keeping low.

They threaded their way along the bank wall to where the rubble began for the hole blown in the back of the bank. Sam nudged his hat onto his head, and then turned his back to the hole keeping watch while Dean half clambered inside to look. Dean came back a moment later and signaled that the bank was empty and the safe was gone. He pointed to a set of long sturdy slats of wood slowly becoming visible through the smoke that the bandits had used to drag the safe out on. Wagon wheels scored the ground on either side of it.

The sound of horses whinnying had all three of them looking away from the bank and squinting into the smoke that was starting to shift away from the building. The Winchesters lean forward, honing in on the sound of the horses, and the creak of a wagon that was audible now. They cocked their guns and took a step forward.

Suddenly a wind whipped up swirling the smoke into a twisting column of vapor. It rushed skyward away from the rear of the bank to reveal the bandits, their horses, their wagon laden with the large bulk of the safe and standing behind it facing Sam and Dean….

Mictecacihuatl.

Her long hair was cascading down across her shoulders and her back like black oil and her head was lowered, as if she was looking at her feet. Her bony hands were held away from her body, her palms and wrists were turn out towards the brothers. Her cloak of feathers was rotted and held open, and beneath it she wore a gown of human faces stitched together by their hair and coated with spider webs. Her fingers were curled inwards and they were coated in some sticky dark red substance. She pushed one foot forward slowly and it’s papery skin rasped like a hiss against the dry ground.

“Don’t look at her eyes, no matter what you do….don’t look in her eyes….” Dean croaked out to his brother and Ischen.

“Ddddeeaannnn….” Mictecacihuatl’s eerie thin voice came trickling through the air and it made Dean shiver. He wasn’t sure what was worse, having her voice in his head or having it snake into his ears like this. “…and Ssssammmm….and the Binnnnderrrrr. How…..nice…. Come to pay your ressspectsssss?”

“Not really..” Dean offered, taking a fast snatch of a look at where the bandits were and not seeing Esteban among them. “Was just kinda hoping to say howdy to our buddy Esteban y’know?”

“Ahhh. Esssstebannnn…loyal Estebannnn….he has gone ahead to prepare the way.” Mictecacihuatl warbled in a perverted facsimile of delight.

“The way for what?” Dean snapped out.

“….You shall seeee fire fall from a clear ssssky….you shall drink bitter watersssss….you shall feel darknesssss crawl in to gnaw on the bones beneath your skinnnn….” Mictecacihuatl chanted in a crooked singsong manner, “The dead shall rise to own the greeeeen earthhhh…and feast on the meat of men.”

“Oh boy.” Sam whispered.

“Sam, you get the bandits on the left closest to you. I’m gonna take the ones on the right….”Dean’s hands fidgeted around his guns momentarily and then stilled. “And Ischen….”

She said nothing but merely stepped forward between the brothers, her left hand curled into a fist and her right hand held open and flat. The left’s flat side curled thumb rested against the outer edge of the right, and the right pointed up as if forming a half prayer gesture. She pulled both up in front of her face and she began to whisper softly under her breath. She opened her eyes and lanced Mictecacihuatl with a hard look. Dean could see swirls of golden sparkling light threading like glowing ember trails in her dark eyes.

“Okay then….” Dean looked from her to Sam, and the brother’s traded a nod. Dean swung his head back towards the wagon and the bandits, pulled down into a crouch as he began to launch himself forward. His guns firing off as he went. Sam was less than a heartbeat behind, stepping up to shield Ischen partially with his wide shoulders. Their colts sang out with lead and smoke and the flash of their ignited chambers.

The bandits fired back, unloading their guns with a fury at the Winchester brothers. Bullets zinged and pucked into the ground as Sam and Dean surged forward, dancing half sideways at times to serpentine their way at the onslaught. Three of the bandits fell; one skidding backwards into the dirt while another tumbled from his horse. The third fell sidelong from the wagon. Dean let off another volley as he pushed ahead, and Sam angled himself, guns held low to come along through the inside.

Abruptly a loud rifle shot came over Dean’s shoulder, nailing another bandit off his horse. Dean flicked a look back to see Calvin against the edge of the bank wall taking aim again with a rifle in his hands. Seconds later Kian was skirting around Sam’s line of fire, his blade low as he closed in along the side of the wagon. He reached it’s front, flattened the other bandit in the driver’s set of the wagon and swung under it.

Dean dropped and rolled quickly to avoid being hit, a bullet grazing his upper thigh as he dove. He pulled up and with a shot felled the last bandit on horseback. On the other side Sam took down two more bandits and cleared the left side of the wagon.

Dean’s attention was snapped to the front of the wagon when the team of four horses jerked and bolted free, dragging the wagon coupling behind them as they fled.

The gunfire ceased.

And it was replaced by the high clicking laugh coming from Mictecacihuatl.

“Don’t you ssssee…?” She drew her curled fingers up against her forehead, “What isss mine issss…mine!” Her hands clenched hard, and in that exact moment the wounded bandits cried out in unison, their bodies having seized up once as blood spurted from their mouths and noses. The sounds of crushed throats gurgled thickly into the air. They fell back limp a moment and then they, as well as the other dead bandits, began to drag their bodies to stand up slowly. Their corpses rose with quivering limbs and blood drooling slack mouths.

Mictecacihuatl turned her back on Ischen and floated up into the wagon to rest one hand lightly against the surface of the safe. “Strike them downnnnn my petssss… again and again….what issss mine…isss mine….”

Two of the undead bandits stumbled towards Dean. He leveled his pistols at their heads and fired a clean shot each into the dead center of their skulls. It had no effect and they still kept coming. “Ischen!! Calvin! We're not gettin' any younger here kids!!” Dean could hear Sam’s guns going off, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Kian climbing up to deal with the undead in the driver’s seat of the wagon. Dean stepped back and away from the encroaching undead and took a look over his shoulder in Ischen’s direction.

She was glowing. Thick whips and tendrils of gold sparking light were thrashing and coursing around her, building in power and substance. Dean could now start to feel the vibrations pouring off of Ischen as her power shot up and around her.

Dean fired off the last of his round into the kneecaps of the undead coming at him, shattering the bone and causing their bodies to buckle. They fell to the ground and began to drag themselves hand over fist in Dean’s direction. “Slowed you little fuckers down some huh?” He smirked. He glanced to Kian in time to see the Arab lob the head off the undead on the wagon, and Sam was now backing up to place himself between Ischen and the other undead, capping them off at the knees as Dean had done.

Dean began to reload his guns, and in the back of his mind he silently prayed to out to Cas. For the angel to stay safe, but at the same time a generic ‘oh man I hope we come out of this alive’ slipped through his mind as well. He clicked the cylinder of his gun closed and looked up.

Esteban was standing right in front him. So close that Dean could see the pale blue irises of the man’s eyes and the red bloodshot jolts veined through the whites. Dean opened his mouth to yell or to gasp, but Esteban’s hand clamped over Dean’s with violent speed to silence him. Esteban’s other hand was like a vice back around behind Dean’s head, holding him firm.

“We have to wait!” Esteban hissed. Sweat was running in smeared rivulets down his face but his hand on Dean’s mouth was rough and dry like sand. Dean could only inhale hard through his nose, his only reaction as his eyes widened. Hundreds of tiny spiders were crawling and running through Esteban’s hair, around his ears, down his neck.

“Esteban, no!” Surprisingly, Julio’s cry came from behind Dean somewhere. “Let him go!”

“Julio don’t you see?! This is for us! For our family?!” Esteban pressed Dean down, forcing him to his knees through the pressure against his head.

“Esteban!” Julio pleaded.

“No….LOOK!” Esteban turned and as he did he shoved Dean to the ground. The bandit leader flung his arm up at Mictecacihuatl pointing to her.

Mictecacihuatl was reaching into the now opened safe and drawing forth a glittering golden statue of a skeletal man, seated with his knees drawn up against his chest and his hands resting on those same knees. On his head was a cylindrical crown and in the center at his forehead was a large gleaming black stone. Mictecacihuatl caressed the figurine tenderly, then leaned in to kiss the gem with her desiccated lips.

Esteban was leaping now, launching himself up onto the side of the wagon, and seconds later scrabbling into it to shoot an arm out at Mictecacihuatl. Thousands of spiders flew off his skin like a small squirming tide of living blackness and crashed into Mictecacihuatl’s face. The spiders swarmed across those deadly eye sockets to clog them shut, they poured into her nose and through her mouth. She teetered, and the statue went loose in her gasp. Esteban reached out and snatched it from her, then turned to flee swiftly off the back of the wagon.

As he ducked, one of Ischen’s golden fizzing tendrils lashed out and up into the wagon. It wound around Mictecacihuatl’s ankles and squeezed. A second whip of light stung out and caught the Queen of the Underworld about her chest, binding her arms to her sides. A third and fourth tendril lashed out, binding the goddess firmly.

Mictecacihuatl was screaming now, a hideous screeching sound that pierced into Dean’s ears and made him press his hands hard against his skull. He could see Sam doubling over in pain, his own hands smashed against his head.

Dean felt more than heard the hole open up behind the wagon. A thin disc of swirling light hovered a foot above the surface of the ground, parallel to it and its event horizon shimmered like a thousand rainbows curling like waves at its edges. It swiveled open like a camera aperture, the light coming from its interior shone brighter than Castiel’s grace. It yawned wider and then stabilized, flickering at the edges like sea foam made of a billion fireflies. Near it Calvin stood steady, his hands in a welcoming gesture before him. He pulled his hands in and Dean could feel that pull of power as if his whole body had been swept sideways by a wave yet he hadn't moved. The pull came again, and Mictecacihuatl was plunging over the back of the wagon. Swallowed clean into the vortex of light. The aperture swirled shut, flickered out and was gone.

Then suddenly everything was still.

Dean pulled his hands away from his head and stood up. He looked to Sam as he brought himself to his full height, shaking his hands away from his body and cracking his neck side to side. Calvin and Ischen were in each other’s arms, holding close and tender. Kian was slumped into the driver’s seat of the wagon, his sword arm held limp at his side as he lifted his eyes to survey the scene just as Dean was doing.

The undead were still now. Lifeless bodies bleeding out and soaking the dirt with their blood.

 

“Dean!”

Dean shifted on his feet to see Castiel standing just beyond Esteban and his brother Julio. The brothers looked as well, eying Castiel from where they stood. Cas had his guns out, trained on the two men, and both guns were locked and loaded.

“I suggest you both step away from Dean, lower the idol to the ground and place your hands behind your backs.” Castiel commanded, his voice low and steady. His eyes were speared down to cold slits.

Julio began to comply but Esteban snagged hold of his brother’s arm and held him still. “I will not.” Esteban lifted his chin and returned Castiel’s hard gaze. “This is ours. Our people’s. Our ancestor’s. It is our right…..” Esteban gently, reverently, cradled the statue to his chest, “Our duty.”

“Brother?” Julio peered around questioningly at Esteban.

Without breaking eye contact with Castiel, Esteban reached to touch the black gem from the crown of the gold idol. His fingers gave it a quick twist, unlatching it from its setting. He plucked it off then and held it firm. As he did the sky grew dark, clouds gathering unnaturally into heavy canopies overhead. He turned over the gem in his hand and spoke quietly. “Julio…we shall be the new Gods of the Underworld. We will take on the mantle and become waking bone. We will embrace the duty solemnly yet with joy. It shall be us who welcome our families to their eternal resting place. It shall be us who sit on the throne and await Quetzalcoatl’s song.”

Esteban turned his eyes now to his brother, and they were filled to the brim with a myriad of emotions. He placed the gem into his mouth and swallowed it.

“No wait!” Dean yelled, reaching for Esteban. But Dean's hands slipped through Esteban as if he were a ghost.

Overhead a storm began to thrash, the wind kicking up as the air grew grim and dark. Peals of lightning shuddered across the horizon and the scent of ozone was brisk and sharp.

Esteban lifted his hand and offered it to Julio, “We will see Mamma again, yes?”

Julio nodded and took Esteban’s hand. And then he smiled.

And then they were simply gone.

Dean blinked, and gaped. His eyes shifted to Cas with alarm. Castiel turned, shooting his gaze around them as if waiting for the brothers to materialize suddenly. The storm rumbled and shook once over heard, then eased. The wind shifted and settled, and a light rain began to patter from above. They all stood a moment more, frozen in their tracks, waiting. The rain just came down a little bit more, then danced off.

“Ya think it’s over?” Dean thumbed against the side of his gun.

Castiel eased his stance and holstered his guns, “They are gone.”

“And they won’t return….” Death was abruptly there, prim and proper, a sleek black umbrella protecting him from the light rain. "Well not within your millennium at any rate."

Everyone but Castiel flinched at Death's sudden appearance and they stepped back instinctively.

“This is why you were really here.” Cas said flatly.

“I can see the Winchester logic hasn’t yet corrupted nor corroded your own deductive reasoning Angel.” Death raised his brows.

Dean stepped forward, “Don’t keep us hangin’ Cas….”

“Death was here to over see the changing of the guard. The transfer of power…from the former Lords of the Underworld to the new ones.” Castiel rested his hands casually on his hips.

“Exactly. Sometimes these things get undesirably messy and then all manner of bits get out of balance. And while this makes my Brothers excitable, I find it tedious and distracting.” Death took several genteel steps towards Calvin and Ischen, “I used the spectacle of the first Banishing to sate my fickle family of their curiosity. Then sent them on their way so they wouldn’t be inclined to meddle in this one. The more important one.” Death removed his hat then and bowed to Calvin and Ischen, “Madame, Sir… I commend you on your growing skills and expertise. Well done.” He rose and then turned from them to look at Kian. He lifted one finger from the hand holding his hat, and Kian’s weariness seemed to evaporate. He lifted his sword arm as if unhurt, and jumped down from the wagon. Then Death turned to Sam, gave him a nod and placed his hat back on his head.

“Okay so…you healed Kian….you’re happy with how things turned out….send us home.” Dean made to step up to confront Death more directly, and Castiel stopped him with a gentle tug on his sleeve.

“Dean, I am not the Wizard of Oz. Just because you brought me the Bad Witch of the West’s broom does not mean I am going to give the Tin Man his heart,” Death flicked a glance to Castiel, then he looked back to Sam when he said, “Grant the Lion his courage, nor the Scarecrow his brains.” He lanced Dean with an amused smirk as those last words came out.

Dean balked. He wasn't certain if he should be amused by the comparisons or insulted. He opened his mouth, then went quiet and dropped his eyes to his boots.

Death drew in a calm sigh. “It’s not because I am bring cruel Dean. It is simply not within my power to send you back as I was not he who brought you here.” He stepped up to face Dean and the compassion now in Death’s eyes made Dean’s hold completely still, his green eyes growing wider.

Death continued, “I can tell you this much….” and he smiled broadly with a hint of mischief, “You do have The Ruby Slippers....."

"There's no place like home Dean....” then…in a breath....Death was gone.

 

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aztec Goddess is gone, Esteban and Julio are the new Lords of the Underworld and Death has vanished. Cas and Dean have some down time and while they are off in their hotel room, Sam and Kian head out to have a drink at a local saloon.
> 
> ****(FYI, this part is NSFW)****

 

Dean was till pacing and fuming and scuffing at the floor with his bare foot. Once Death had vanished and the Sheriff’s men arrived to deal with the bank robbery, everyone had been detained at the Sheriff’s station over night for questioning. All the money was still in the safe, but the issue of the missing golden statute brought up from Mexico by one of the bank manager’s ancestors was still a problem. The story the Winchester’s sold the Sheriff was that Esteban and his brother Julio had run off with it. Which was primarily the truth. What they couldn’t explain was how the foot and a half thick safe door had been melted off its hinges. Something else the Sam and Dean couldn’t figure out was how Julio had gotten free from his bindings back at the hotel.

The last twelve hours had been frustrating and irritating and Dean was having trouble settling down. “Okay so…maybe Esteban does his creepy million spider man march away from you, and slithers up into the hotel and frees his brother….”

“That’s entirely plausible.” Castiel was seated near the window at a small table, carefully cleaning his firearms with a precise meticulousness.

“Okay… okay I’ll buy that theory for a thousand Alex Trebek…” Dean shuffled across the floor of their hotel room, his back to Cas now and his hands over his head, waving about. “But then there is Death. That fucker! Could he be any more cryptic?! What did he mean by ‘he who brought us here’ or whatever? What the fuck is that?! And what’s this ruby slippers bullshit? Does that mean we have to find Ruby in this time period because HELL to the NO.”

Cas finished cleaning his guns and began to reassemble them. He remained silent and merely looked up to watch the tension rise and fall in Dean’s shoulders as he ranted. Then Cas’s eyes dropped lower.

“Why can’t anyone just freakin’ give us a straight answer for once, huh Cas? Why??” Dean turned quickly and caught Cas staring at his rear end; Cas’s angelic fingers paused in their assembly of his gun. His cheeks darkened and his eyes dipped away quickly.

Derailed, Dean stood a moment as the gears in his head unspun from his diatribe and shifted to lock into a whole different chain of thought, “Cas, were you checking out my ass?”

Castiel returned to his task before him, fingers sure as they pieced together his firearm. “I may have taken in a visual appreciation of the curvature of your gluteus muscles as they moved beneath the fabric of your trousers.” Cas finished reassembling that gun and began on the other. “Perhaps for a moment.” He paused, “It was pleasurable.”

Dean shifted in his stance and a crooked grin grew across his face. “Pleasurable huh?” He crept closer, sidling up alongside Castiel. “So explain to me about this visual appreciation….is there a method or…?”

“Stop trying to bait me Dean.” Cas went through the last steps of putting together the second firearm and set it down gently. Then he raised his head to look up at Dean, his gaze was even and bland now.

Dean half shrugged, scrunching up the middle of his mouth as the corners turned down in an expression of ‘so what?’. He lifted his hand to rub the back of his head and he turned away from Cas. The truth is there was something else on his mind that was driving him even battier than the unanswered questions he had been fuming about. Tonight was the first time since their first night in Sanctuary where he and Cas were completely alone with no otherworldly insanity going on. There were no little brothers in the room, no other hunters sleeping a few feet from them in camp. It was just he and Cas, and a large bed and a nice fire in the fireplace. Dean’s hands came down to smooth against the front of his shirt nervously. He knew what he wanted, and was pretty sure he knew how to get it too. But there was a hot jittery ball of coiled butterflies roiling around inside his gut that was keeping him paralyzed from acting.

“Calvin and Ischen are dining alone tonight,” Cas began to say off handedly, “He explained to me how they required some time alone. Perhaps we should find Sam and Kian for dinner?”

Dean swallowed, “Um, yea sure. Yea. Let me put my boots on.” He went to sit in one of the chairs beside the fireplace. Next to the chair waited his socks and boots, which he now began to put on.

Cas stood, adjusted his waistcoat and reached for his suit jacket. Once he had it on, he picked up Dean’s waistcoat from where it had been tossed on the bed. Cas took a moment and smoothed out the wrinkles with one hand. Then he approached Dean. Instead of handing the waistcoat to Dean, he waited for Dean to be done pulling his boots on. Dean stood up and extended his hand to take the waistcoat, but Cas stepped forward and slid the armhole over the extended arm as if to dress Dean.

“C’mon Cas you don’t have to….” Dean smiled shyly.

“I want to.” Cas said simply, and draped the back across Dean’s shoulders, helping him angle his other arm through the other armhole. Then he came around to Dean’s front and began to button up the buttons there. As Cas’s fingers worked up the front of Dean’s stomach and chest, his eyes kept to the buttons, but he stood close. Invading into Dean’s personal space just like always.

It made that shy look on Dean’s face warm and soften, and his smile grow with fondness. When Cas was done, their eyes met, just like always. Dean’s voice was quiet when he spoke, “Thank you.”

“It was a thinly veiled excuse to be in close physical proximity with you.” Castiel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “After we have supper with Sam and Kian I would like to spend the rest of the evening back here in the room reacquainting myself with all those freckles scattered across your skin under your clothing.” He paused, “If you would be agreeable to it.”

The sudden rush of heat that washed across Dean’s cheeks didn’t stop there. In his mind’s eyes, Dean now held the image of Cas’s steamed and sultry face from the bath back in that first hotel on that first night here. The memory of Cas’s hands on him and then of Cas kissing him in the bandit camp, pulled more heat from inside Dean. It welled up and crushed the nervous knot in his gut.

“No….” Dean croaked out, his throat a little dry, but when Cas’s expression began to fall he quickly added, “Not after dinner….not…waiting anymore….” Dean’s eyes danced hot and fast across the surface of Castiel’s face, and his hands came up quickly to grasp the angel’s jaw line to hold him, “Now!”

Dean’s mouth was on Castiel’s a breath later. Dean closed his eyes and just poured all the want he was holding inside into their kiss. Their mouths opened to each other and their bodies pulled together, and Castiel hummed into their kisses with delight. Soon fingers were pulling buttons undone, and belts were sliding from their waistbands. Dean shoved Castiel’s suit jacket off and tossed is aside to a chair while Castiel began work on the buttons of Dean’s shirt. Their mouths barely broke apart, their thirst for each other drinking each other up.

Still trying to remain locked at the lips, Dean was attempting to pull off his boot, half hopping on his other foot as Castiel steadied him. Finally the kiss broke fully as Dean let off a light laugh. His boot halfway off was comedic in contrast to the sheer hunger in Castiel’s eyes.

“Cas….” Dean smiled, glowing. He gently nudged Castiel to sit in the other chair beside the fireplace and once he did, Dean pulled off his boot. Then he knelt before Cas, and took the angel’s left leg into his hands. He placed a kiss to Cas’s knee, then slid his hands slowly down Castiel’s leg. Dean let his fingers squeeze into the toned muscles of his calf, and then he slowly pull off the boot and the sock. He set the left leg down, and took hold of the right. Again he kissed Cas’s knee, this time flashing his green eyes up coupled with a half smirk. He repeated his motions from the left leg, removing the boot and sock. This time he kept the right foot in his hands, and began to massage the arch with firm strokes to the sides of Cas’s foot as well.

The angel’s eyes went a bit wider, and his lips parted. The barest little gasp came out of Cas. Dean worked his strong fingers up the foot, massaged the ankle, then went higher sliding under the hem of Cas’s pant leg. Dean bent close and nuzzled Castiel’s knee with his nose, a faint sound of pleasure coming from Dean’s throat.

“Touching you just…..feels…..”Dean huffed out low, “…so good.”

Dean glanced up once more to find Castiel’s eyes burning hot and dark. He answered with a wicked smile and removed his hands from beneath Cas’s pant leg. He paused to remove his other boot and sock, then retuned to his kneeling position. His hands caressed up the front of Cas’s shins, over the knees and then pressed with insistence across the tops of Castiel’s thighs. It made Cas shift in his chair and his hands gripped the armrests a bit tighter. Dean pressed closer, coming between Cas’s thighs so his chest shoved against the chair’s seat edge. He spread his hands across Cas’s thighs and gripped, then pulled to bring Cas slumping down in the chair more.

With a grin of sheer joy Dean’s face was now squarely right above Cas’s bulging crotch, and he didn’t waste any more time with second-guessing or hesitation. He opened his lips and mouthed greedily against the fabric strained over Cas’s erection. Cas jolted and let out a sound of surprise, but Dean held him firm with his hands still on the angel’s thighs.

“Dean….” The name shivered out of Castiel’s mouth and his breathing pick up in pace.

Dean reached and began undoing the buttons on Cas’s trousers, eyes wandering up the angel’s torso to see the quick rise and fall of Cas’s ribcage. And above that Cas’s face. His brows were pulled up in a look of helpless ache, his deep blue eyes were delirious and his mouth was falling more open. Dean’s own face flushed and the hot wave that had been riding over his skin lanced down straight into his own groin. Dean grunted out a short needy sound and went back at the buttons with haste.

But then there was a knock at the door.

Dean froze and his hands trembled slightly. The buttons were undone and the tips of his fingers were just under the edge of the fabric and so close to his goal.

The knock came again, and Cas let his head fall back against the chair.

Dean grimaced and stood, “Uh, yea?” His voiced came out low and rough and completely coloured by his arousal.

“Dean, can I come in?” It was Sam.

Dean shot over to the door, opened it and slipped out into the hallway. He shut the door behind him and leaned on it, giving his brother a twitchy grin. Sam took one look at Dean’s face and frowned. Then Sam titled his head slightly, a questioning look coming over his face.

“Dean are you….?” Sam started to half smile and half wince.

“Well I would be if my little brother would quit with the cock blocking….” Dean laughed out and then gave Sam a weak grin.

“Where’s Cas?” Sam frowned and when Dean’s eyes darted back to the room Sam covered his face with one hand and merely turned away. “Things I did not need to know….I’ll be at the saloon where we had dinner the other night…just…ugh.””

“Heh.” Was all Dean offered and he quickly ducked back into the room with Cas.

Dean shut and latched the door, then turned back to the chairs by the fireplace. Both were empty.

“Cas?” Dean nearly whined.

“Here…” Warm hands came around from behind Dean to curl across his chest and stomach. They caught hold of Dean’s open shirt and waistcoat and pulled them off.

“Did you sneak behind me using your mojo?” Dean raised one brow.

Cas’s hands were now snaking back from behind Dean to work at unbuttoning Dean’s pants. Cas’s body was firm against Dean’s back and he could feel the full stiff length of Cas’s cock pressed to his ass cheek.

“Just hidden behind the door.”

Cas shucked Dean’s pants down with one demanding pull that relieved him of his under garments as well. Then Cas returned along Dean’s back, strong searching hands running riot over Dean’s chest. Dean’s eyes went wide when he realized the angel was as naked as he was now.

A nose nudged along the space where Dean’s neck met his shoulders and hands smoothed across the planes of Dean’s stomach. Cas pulled him closer, hugging him as a low sound bubbled up from in the angel’s chest. Dean could feel the vibration of it all across his back and it made his own erection bob. Cas nudged him over closer to the side of the bed, then pushed Dean face down. Dean was half on and half off the bed, his chest and stomach and cock flat to its surface while his legs reach down to the floor.

Angel hands were now roaming across Dean’s back, his shoulders, his sides. Half massaging half exploring and frequently punctuated with Castiel’s fevered lips when they moved away. Cas was holding true to his quest, covering and discovering every inch of Dean’s currently exposed skin. Dean shifted his hips and rocked, rubbing into the bed with his crotch a little and groaning with every kiss.

“I was there you know….” Castiel’s voice was shaking a little as he spoke, “…when the Kama Sutra was written by Mallanaga Vatsyayana in the 2nd century…”

Dean lifted his head and peered over his shoulder back at Cas and his breath was held in his throat. He squirmed when Cas gripped both his butt cheeks into firm fingers, kneading them. Cas bent then and took a mouthful of flesh to suck as one hand slipped in-between the cleft of Dean’s ass. One finger probed in, rubbing in short circles at the pucker.

Dean gripped the bedspread, his body curling against it as a hiss escaped his lips. “Cas…you….”

“I know a lot.” He had released his mouth’s hold on Dean’s skin, a large mark echoed there where it had been. He removed his finger and crawled up over Dean’s body, pulling Dean around to face him. They nudged up higher on the bed so Dean wasn’t dangling off anymore and as soon as they were there Cas began to give Dean’s shoulders and chest the thorough treatment of hands and lips as he had given Dean’s back.

He spoke in murmuring rumbles as he went, “Want to explore….all of it….with you….”

Dean was swimming in a sea of languid tremors and wildfire sparks of arousal. His vision was hazy and every inch of skin that Cas was kissing and touching was alive and shivering. He could only reply with hushed whispering “yes yes yes oh god yes” or deep moans when Cas would linger over an area to torment it with his mouth to leave a mark. He began to forget where he stopped and Cas started.

At one point he groaned out how he was supposed to be the one taking care of Cas this time, but Cas simply smothered his words with a wanton kiss. Then he went back to having his way with Dean’s body. Soon though there was a sharp taut buzz building beneath both of their skins and they had begun grinding and sliding against each other with quivering abandon.

“Show….show me some of this….Sutra…stuff….” Dean had a hand full of Cas’s ass cheek and was nibbling down the side of one of Cas’s arms.

Cas grunted an affirmation, and sat up. He turned, shifted and scooted so his hips were aligned with Dean’s head, and visa versa. Then he tugged Dean so they were on their sides facing each other giving Dean full access to the angel’s groin again. Cas didn’t wait for further explanation and simply gripped hold of Dean’s hips. His mouth went immediately at Dean’s cock, tonguing and licking along its length. Dean let out a hard gasp at the sudden focused attention there after being submerged in the sea of all over simulation. And that’s when he got it. That was the point. He let out another hot gasp and didn’t waste his open lips. He mirrored Cas, gripping the angel’s hips to return to doing what he had been when Cas was seated in the chair.

Cas hummed low in pleasure as the feeling of Dean on his own cock shot through him. He let the vibration out through his mouth and all over Dean, then sucked in the head of Dean’s erection when it peaked. Dean nearly let go of Cas when that vibration wrecked through him. He let out a low cry and redoubled his own efforts.

They found a rhythm in short work. One would suck in as the other withdrew. Their bodies were squirming as the tension ratcheted higher and Cas’s hums had begun to completely unravel Dean. Soon he was slurping at Cas with abandon, drinking the shaft down with repeated gulps. The closer he came to his own release the lustier his mouth became.

Then Cas did something with his tongue as he suckled hard to the tip of Dean, and it sent Dean sailing over the edge. Dean jerked and came hard, his mouth letting go of Cas to choke out a silent yell with the intensity of it. It took him a long moment to recover as he lay there shaking. When he finally rose out of his stupor, he was on his back with Cas draped on top of him, face to face.

Cas smiled, and kissed him all over his cheeks and chin. Dean could feel Cas’s still rampant hard phallus against his hip, but Cas was ignoring it for the chance to dance his lips over Dean’s face. Dean let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes as he worked at sneaking his hands between them. He wiggled and nudged until he could firmly get a hand around Cas’s shaft. With a lopsided grin he began to rub and tug and stroke.

Cas’s kisses began to stutter, and his body followed. Dean picked up the pace and moments later Cas was curled against Dean, his head buried in the dip of Dean’s neck moaning and gasping loudly. When Cas’s orgasm tore through him, he gripped tightly to Dean and a low clipped groan poured from him. His mouth was smashed against Dean’s skin and his eyes were shut tight.

Uncaring about the mess between them and so happy he could burst, Dean tugged Cas close. He wrapped his arms around the angel’s solid muscular form and held on. Castiel’s whole body melted against Dean and soon they were both dozing off, the warmth from the fire making the room languid.

Hours later they had shifted however, and Dean woke to find his back tucked against Castiel’s chest with one protective angel arm slung possessively across Dean’s hip.

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Across town, Sam was leaning casually against at the bar at the saloon, a glass of whiskey resting in his fingers. Beside him, Kian was sipping his beer and watching the dancehall girls can-can up on the stage. Sam chuckled, amused at the face Kian kept making after every sip as he was apparently not getting used to the hoppy after taste.

“Dude, if you don’t like it, you shouldn’t drink it…” Sam smiled and nudged Kian with his elbow.

“I do not like to waste…” Kian smirked and took another sip.

Sam let out a small laugh and turned his attention to the rest of the saloon. The private rooms were all closed off tonight in use, and the rest of the establishment was fairly full. There were a group of ranch hands near the front, carrying on and laughing with good-natured boisterous fun. They cheered and yelled with gusto for the dancing girls and it had become increasingly amusing to watch. Sam was watching one man playfully get down on his knees to blow kisses at the girls when Kian’s hand shot over and latched on hard to his arm.

Alert, Sam looked to Kian, and then to where Kian was pointing.

There was a man exiting one of the private rooms, pausing just outside to remove a cigar from his pocket. The man was dressed expensively for the times in well a tailored pale cream suit and tan snakeskin boots. He wore a gold ring on one pinky and a gold watch chain draped perfectly from one waistcoat pocket. The man was of average height and had medium length semi-wavy tawny coloured hair. His full attention was currently on the dancing girls, so Sam couldn’t see his face.

Kian gulped, “He’s like Castiel.”

Sam tensed, “Wha….you mean he’s an Angel?!”

“He has the aura like Castiel does….so bright! I can see it all around him….but this man…it’s more.” Kian’s hand was beginning to tremble against Sam’s arm.

Sam’s eyes went wider and he pulled himself to his full height, craning to see if he could catch a glimpse of the man’s face.

“Sam…” Kian whispered hoarsely, “Sam…I can see his wings.” Kian paused. “All six of them!”

Sam shot Kian a surprised look, “Six?!”

And then the man casually turned around to look in Sam and Kian’s direction. He placed the cigar in his mouth and reached down into his pockets to draw out a match.

Sam felt the floor beneath him shift as the air went out of his lungs.

“Gabriel!!”

 

 

**(to be continued)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel shoots straight as oddly, he doesn't need to play the Trickster with the Winchesters this time. God has already beat him to the punchline.

 

At first Kian was in abject undeniable awe and near terror seeing his first Archangel, and Sam had to grip him by the shoulders to hold him up. A moment later the Arab’s eyes were wide, and his lips were muttering under his breath, and Sam recognized it for what it was. Kian’s spirit guide, his Grandfather, had chosen this moment to communicate with him.

Inconvenient to say the least as far as Sam was concerned.

So far, Gabriel had not given any indication that he had seen them, though Sam knew that meant nothing. At the moment the Archangel was lighting his cigar and taking short puffs on it, drawing it to cherry at the tip.

Sam quickly shifted Kian over to a nearby chair and seated him. Sam removed his jacket and draped it carefully around Kian’s shoulders, trying not to disturb his trance fugue with the guide. Then Sam removed his hat and left it on Kian’s lap. Sam straightened, took a ridiculously deep breath and turned in Gabriel’s direction. As he walked over, he told himself that maybe this wasn’t actually Gabriel, but the vessel the Archangel would eventually use to run around in. Maybe Kian read the energy wrong. Or maybe he had hallucinated the wings. Or that maybe it was really Gabriel, and maybe he was the one responsible for them being bounced back in time, and maybe if Sam was careful and played his cards right they would be back in their own time before dawn tomorrow.

A small cloud of fragrant cigar tobacco reached Sam as he came to stand alongside the Archangel. Sam cleared his throat and pulled up the best smile he could muster considering the cold nervousness clunking about in his gut. “Pardon me but…”

“You see that guy over there, the one seated at the table by the window?” Gabriel pointed across the room with the end of his cigar, never taking his keen gaze off the man and not looking at Sam.

“Uh, yea.” Sam responded at a loss. The man in question was older, white with a craggy face, full beard and bright blue eyes. He was dressed in a wealthy manner and was enjoying a glass of some dark liquor.

“That man made a profit off of the Trail of Tears. Took someone’s suffering and earned a dollar from it.” Gabriel let out a small huff, “Does that seem right to you?”

Sam frowned and looked from the man in question, back to Gabriel and then repeated the motion. “No, it doesn’t but…”

“But nuthin’.” Gabriel snorted, “I think he has some payback coming his way….” He placed the cigar in his mouth and smiled around it as his eyes narrowed looking at the man.

“That’s…look….maybe before you scalp him or something equally poetic, could I have maybe just, I dunno, ten minutes of your time to talk to you?” Sam almost pleaded.

Slowly Gabriel turned his head. He cast a sidelong gaze at Sam, traveling up the younger Winchester’s height to nail Sam with a scrutinizing look. He remained silent for a long time, just staring at Sam without blinking. It reminded Sam of Castiel so much he started to sweat a little. Gabriel rolled his cigar around in is mouth and his smile grew bigger. Then he returned to look at the man across the room.

“I suppose he’s not going anywhere for a while. And I’ve got time. Follow me.” Gabriel pivoted on his heel and headed back to the private room he had originally emerged from.

“Hold on, I need to, um, collect my friend over there…” Sam gestured to Kian, still in his trance state.

Gabriel looked at Kian with the same measuring appraisal he had just given Sam, and then he raised one eyebrow and said, “Interesting friend you have there. Sure, bring him along. This should be fun.”

Soon Sam and Kian were seated on plush ornate dark red velvet couches surrounded by the opulence of the private room Gabriel was using. A low mahogany table was in the center, replete with all manner of fancy dishes, a hookah, and decanters of whiskey and wine. Around them beautiful flower arrangements dripped blossoms and buds from their places against the walls. Gabriel was relaxed on a similar couch after shooing several dance hall girls out with promises to see them later.

Gabriel gestured to the food and drink on the table, “Help yourself.” He took another drag off his cigar and speared Sam with his amber eyes.

Sam’s first inclination was to refuse, then he decided to throw caution to the wind and he poured himself a small tumbler of the whiskey. He raised it in salute to Gabriel and took a taste. It was better than anything he or Dean had ever drank.

“So you boys aren’t really from around here….”Gabriel smiled, “If I may be blunt. Your friend there is bound up in direct two way prayer with a citizen of Heaven and you….You! You aren’t even part of this natural time line…” Gabriel sat forward and a playful smile curled at the edge of his mouth, “And somehow I feel like I know you.”

“Well, you do. I mean, you will.” Sam sat forward and set his drink down. “I’m from the year 2013 and we…well we met during some business with um….the Apocalypse.”

“We didn’t have a _thing_ did we?” Gabriel leered.

“Uh, oh…um no…No.” Sam shook his head and looked a bit lost.

“Huh. Too bad.” Gabriel leaned back and took another pull on his cigar, “So the Apocalypse huh? Are you bouncing around time to extend your life so you don’t get squashed up by it?”

“Oh no. My brother and I, we actually stopped it.” Sam let a small pleased smile tug at the edge of his lips.

And that made Gabriel sit up, “Stopped the Apocalypse. The final showdown between Michael and Lucifer. That’s not possible.”

“Well, yes…it is possible…er, was possible. Because we did it. Look if you don’t believe me, Castiel is here with us and he can confirm everything.” Sam spread his hands out and held them up is semi-surrender.

“Castiel?” Gabriel stood up and his hands dropped to his sides. “But Castiel is not in a vessel and definitely not near Earth right now….” he started to say more then shut up.

Sam stood as well, his hands still held in a placating gesture. “Listen, Gabriel… my brother and I, and Cas, we were pulled out of our time unexpectedly and brought here. The Castiel with us is one from the future, like us.” Sam took a deep breath, “Look, we know why we were taken, but we don’t know by whom. When I saw you here I thought maybe you had something to do with it, but it’s obvious you don’t even know who I am….”

Gabriel relaxed his shoulders a bit looking at the younger Winchester, “And you are genuinely unhappy about that…” he mused, half to himself, “It’s like you’re disappointed I don't recognize you.”

“A little.” Sam confessed. “You were a big help to my brother and me, came through for us in a big way once. Genuinely grateful for that…so….”

Gabriel extinguished his cigar and then took a long look at Kian, “I do know him however. Well, know OF him. Heard about him, and the other two. I know Death and the other Horsemen were knocking about nearby because of them. You’re tied up in it too yea?”

Sam nodded. “We were told we were brought here to train them, get them ready for their jobs as hunters.”

“Because you squashed the Apocalypse?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe. My brother Dean and I, we’re hunters. All our lives.” Sam placed one hand against his chest in the center.

“Huh.” Gabriel began to pace a bit, his index finger going to his bottom lip to tap idly against it.. “If Death didn’t do it, and Castiel didn’t do it…and I didn’t do it…” Gabriel went silent a long moment.

Then he took another measured look at Kian and his eyes went wide. “Oh boy.”

“What?!” Sam asked.

“C’mere….” Gabriel beckoned Sam over, “Come on, hurry up….What was your name again?”

Sam cautiously approached, “Winchester….Sam Winchester.” When he was close enough Gabriel reached up and placed his hand flat on Sam’s chest. Exactly where Sam had held his own hand a moment before.

“Winchester…” Gabriel closed his eyes and muttered, “Winchester….Campbell-Winchester line…” His hands pressed a little firmly against Sam’s chest now, and Sam could feel a low gentle warming vibration coming from Gabriel’s palm. “Born May second….1983….proficient in scholastic academics….good with a blade….tainted with demon blood as a baby….” Sam flinched slightly and Gabriel hushed him, “Shh no, be calm…..” Gabriel continued, “Intended to be Lucifer’s vessel….took him on….and…whoa....” Gabriel opened his eyes and looked up at Sam, his eyes glowing faintly with a golden aura. He then slowly lowered his hand.

“I wasn’t lying.” Sam said quietly.

“I didn’t think you were. But the demon thread connections to your history and soul aren’t the only markers left on you Sam.” Gabriel looked away, his face somber.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Sam could feel that cold nervous sensation running up through his gut again.

“Sam….you, your brother…Castiel….” Gabriel was the one looking opening nervous now. “God brought you here.”

Sam blinked in disbelief for three full heartbeats. Then he opened his mouth and frowned and held still for a dozen more. “That’s…..that can’t be….No, He’s gone. He’s left the building. He checked out. So long and thanks for all the fish. He didn’t. He couldn’t.”

“Oh he can, and he did. His finger prints are all over your soul and your body and your being.” Gabriel chuckled out, “He may be missing in the future, but he’s out and about here on Earth quite a bit right now, what with the Industrial Revolution and the Age of Reason kicking in. He’s polishing up the brass and setting the table…. humanity is on the verge of the next Great Push and He’s very excited to get everything in order.”

Gabriel paused and pointed to Kian, “The new Hunters. His novelty shining tools to bring balance to the world. Out with the old, in with the new. He’s very excited about them right now. Excited enough to reach forward in time and bring into service the three champions who snuffed out the Apocalypse apparently. Someone to sharpen and hone His new tools.”

“But if He brought us here, how do we get him to take us back?” Sam looked distraught.

“I dunno.” Gabriel shrugged. “Maybe you aren’t supposed to go back.”

A long silence grew in the room as Sam looked down helplessly at his hands. The nervous coil inside him was weighing harder and colder, molding into a dread realization and not budging.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you kiddo.” Gabriel looked at Sam then. Genuine sympathy and compassion warmed out from Gabriel, and Sam could feel the angelic power soothing the knot in his gut. “If it helps, I can maybe ask a few of my contacts, see if they know of a way to walk you home. I need to get in touch with the other Loki anyway and warn him about these new Hunters.”

“The other Loki?” Sam questioned, his own face now slightly amused.

“Yep. There’s two of us. More fun that way. More chaos.” Gabriel chuckled. “We didn’t think these new Hunters were active yet, so I need to warn he and a few gods and goddesses here and there while I am asking around.”

“Hey, before you go….”Sam took a step forward, he clasped his hands together almost in prayer. He drew in a breath and then said “You should come see Castiel. It would mean a lot to him.”

“You act like we haven’t seen each other in a millennium. What in the name of the garrison happened in the future….?” Gabriel knit his brows up and spread his arms out as if he were being flippantly sarcastic.

“Do you really want to know?” Sam replied honestly.

Gabriel paused. He thought about that, let it roll around in his head for a bit. He opened his mouth once, then closed it. He smiled big then, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes, “Not just yet.”

“Let’s go find our siblings.”

Sam went to Kian, and hoisted him up fireman carry style, then exited the private room. As he followed behind Gabriel randomly said, “You know, your idea of poetic justice…giving someone their ‘just deserts’… intrigues me…. I hadn’t thought it that way before….”

Sam just stared ahead and bit his tongue.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Night had gently fallen to canopy across the skyline of the new and growing city of Tulsa. Some people were out enjoying the fresh late spring air and the last lingering coolness it carried. Kian came out of his trance state and apologized profusely to both Sam and Gabriel and when they arrived at the hotel Kian excused himself, saying that he needed to observe evening prayer and further commune with his grandfather. This left Sam and Gabriel to stand together before Dean and Castiel’s door, with Sam decidedly hesitant to knock.

When Sam openly balked, Gabriel pinned him with a questioning glare. “Problem Winchester?”

“I just….when I was here earlier they were…um….” Sam looked uncomfortable and made an awkward gesture with his hands.

Gabriel made a semi-shocked face, “Castiel knocking boots with a human?….Huh. Today is full of surprises.” Then he pushed aside Sam and rapped with short quick hard knocks to the door. When there was no answer, he did it again, then again. A playful grin was starting to creep up along his mouth. “Could always just walk on in….”

The door yanked open and a very sleep muddled Dean was standing there shirtless, his pants hastily buttoned up on his body, “What?!” he groused.

Then his sleep clouded eyes saw Gabriel.

“You little shit!” Dean barked out and stormed through the door, “You brought us here didn’t you?!” He crowded the unprepared Archangel up against the hallway wall, poking his finger into Gabriel’s chest. “What the hell man….why??”

“Dean…” Sam pulled his brother back, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him close. He spoke a low voice and told Dean everything about his conversation with Gabriel. Dean listened and nodded, his face growing frustrated, then pale as Sam recounted everything.

“Um, sorry….Gabe, I guess I over reacted.” Dean apologized sheepishly.

Gabriel chuckled, “Man, I must have really had some fun times with you guys when we hung out huh?”

“Gabriel….” Castiel was standing in the doorway to the room now. He had one hand lingering along the doorframe, and like Dean he was just wearing his trousers. His face however, was filled with emotion. Sorrow and loss and grief played out visibly in his eyes, and then relief and genuine familial love shone out. Cas smiled softly, crossed the distance to Gabriel and wrapped the Archangel up in a tender but desperate embrace.

Gabriel froze, his hands held at his sides for a long breath before he brought them up to return the hug. Confusion and slight alarm danced in his eyes before he closed them and just accepted it all.

“It’s so good to see you again Gabriel.” Cas pulled away, hesitantly as if he was afraid to let go.

“What is this Castiel? You act like I’m….dead….or something.” Gabriel’s brows pulled up into a worried expression.

“Perhaps we should discuss this inside the room.” Castiel gestured to the open door. At that Gabriel’s eyes went sad and curious, but Castiel would only look on him with fondness and said no more.

Dean ducked back into the hotel room first and moved over to bring the fire back up. Sam followed, coming in to light the oil lamps around the room. Cas and Gabriel came in last. Castiel offered Gabriel one of the seats beside the fire, and when he sat Cas took the other one. This left the Winchester brothers to sit at the table by the window, trading entire conversations with each other through their expressions while they listened to the other two talk. Dean idly fingered a few coins and other things sitting on the table in front of him.

Gabriel started out by explaining to Cas and Dean what he and Sam had discussed back at the saloon. How he was certain that the Almighty was the one that had brought them there, and how he personally didn't have the power to return them to their usual time line. He also put forth his suggestion that perhaps they were meant to remain in this time and not go back.

Dean instantly shoved that notion aside, “Like hell! We’ll find a way back. We ripped up the story before and dammit we’ll do it again.” He was up pacing the room again, just as he had been earlier in the day.

Gabriel gave Dean a long look and then turned to Cas, “I get what you see in him. But you’ll need more than a give ‘em hell attitude to get….” Gabriel stopped. Something on the table had caught his eye and he stood up with a measured carefulness.

Confused, Castiel followed Gabriel’s gaze. Over on the table among the coins sat Dean’s silver pocket watch.

“Where did you get that?” Gabriel questioned about the watch, and that mischievous spark was dancing in his eyes now.

“It’s been with me since we got here. Was part of the whole inst-o-gear we woke up with. Guns, clothes, horses, that.” Dean shrugged.

Gabriel nearly giggled. He looked at Castiel and rolled his eyes, “You don’t know what that is do you? Of course you don’t…your wings are clipped you wouldn’t be able to see the energy…and the boys are obviously clueless.” Gabriel threw back his head and let out a long laugh, “This is precious! You’ve had it the whole time and you didn’t know! I love it!”

“It’s a flippin’ pocket watch is what it is!” Dan snatched the watch up off the table and shook it in Gabriel’s face, his frustration getting the better of him.

“No it isn’t. It isn't _just_ a watch.....” Gabriel teased. “Open it.”

Dean glared for a moment longer and then clicked open the watch. Inside was the beautiful watch face, and opposite that the faux photo of John and Mary. “And?” Dean growled.

“And….” Gabriel gestured, still smiling, his eyes still lit up like little glittering suns.

Frowning Dean recalled the bit of paper that he had found tucked behind the photo of John and Mary. Carefully he withdrew it, and unfolded it. Sam stood up to look over Dean’s shoulder and Castiel rose as well. Dean held the small paper up and read it silently to himself. Five words were written in beautiful script across its surface. Dean looked up at Gabriel with outright confusion at first. Then his eyes went wide and his mouth opened excitedly.

“Shhh…..not yet. When you are ready to leave. Get it now?” Gabriel beamed.

“So the watch is a…”Dean raised one brow.

“A metaphysical tether to your own time line. You hold it, invoke the words and poof! It sends you home. Probably drop you right back a half second after you left.” Gabriel nodded still smiling. “The old guy still has style. Elegant and simple. A time tether formed as a timepiece. Brilliant.”

“So this is the ruby slipper Death was going on about.” Dean huffed in surprise. “Just like Dorothy, we could leave whenever we wanted to. Just click our heels together…”

“I, uh, don’t get that reference….” Gabriel frowned just a little.

“It’s okay. You’ll get used to it after a while with him.” Castiel patted Gabriel comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Well, this means we can go home.” Dean took in a breath and felt the relief wash over him.

“We should pack, and say good bye to Kian and the Coopers….” Sam offered.

“Ah, come on! There’s time for that tomorrow. Come have a drink with me back at the saloon. Enjoy your last night in 1908. Relax. Live a little before you thrust yourselves back into where you were before. I like you guys.....” Gabriel gestured big with his hands, emphasizing his words and smiling, “Come on, you know you want to….” He grinned bigger and waggled his brows up and down.

Dean looked at Sam a moment, and Sam shrugged lightly. “We do have time. I mean, what’s happening back home isn’t even taking place yet….”

Dean nodded back with a satisfied look, then he turned to Cas, “What do you think?”

“I think an evening in a social atmosphere among friends and family would be enjoyable.” Cas tilted his chin up and a pleased look crossed his face. “And then Dean and I can return here and have a repeat session of….”

“Yea. Okay.” Dean cut him off, blushing and Gabriel let out a laugh. Dean rubbed the back of his neck and continued, “How about you give me and Captain Sexpot here a minute to get some decent clothes on and we’ll meet you down in the lobby.”

Sam let out an exasperated sigh, nodded and headed for the door. Gabriel, smirking, followed him, calling back “Don’t take too long boys….”

Once they were gone and the door once again closed, Castiel turned to Dean with a pout forming on his lips. He leveled his odd gaze and furrowed his brows.

“What is is Cas?” Dean rolled his eyes, expecting Cas to berate him for cutting him off.

“I’m not a captain Dean. That’s an incorrect title. I do not have a boat or a ship or a….”

Dean cut him off with a quick kiss, then followed it with a softer more lingering one. “Let it go Cas.”

“Okay Dean.”

 

 

  
**(to be continued)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Cas lies. He does have a ship. He's sailin' in it.)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final conclusion to our story: it's time to say farewell.

 

The mid-morning sun was lovely here along the Arkansas River bank. The light dappled through the thick tree line edging against the embankment while the river itself spread out wide and placid beyond. The horses were all at the water’s edge, bent to drink. Dean’s black horse was between the two other’s, his tail snapping back and forth to shielded all three from flies. Dean stood not far off watching the animals, his fingers working against the brim of his still crushed hat. The rest of their crew was standing off to the side beneath the shade of a tree and their voices drifted over to Dean’s ear intermittently. He could hear Gabriel’s boisterous voice swell on a humorous uptake followed by the laughter of the rest. Dean smiled to himself and let one finger slip into his waistcoat pocket to fiddle at the silver pocket watch there.

“We could stay if you like.” Cas’s voice came close and Dean felt the angel pull up alongside, their shoulders and arms touching. “Technically we could live our whole lives here….stay with the Coopers, with Kian. When we return it will be mere moments after we left so we won’t be wasting the future if we stay.”

“I thought about that.” Dean looked down to his hat, hoof prints still apparent along part of the brim. “But isn’t there some kind of crazy paradox we could create by staying? Step on some butterfly and go back to find everyone speaking backwards or something? Do something here that would fuck things up there?”

“Yes. You are correct.” Cas turned to look at him, canting his head slightly.

“You knew that when you asked me, you just wanted to give me a choice…”Dean half smirked, half smiled and glanced sidelong at Castiel. Cas just rocked back on his heels with a small secret smile on his face and said nothing.

They stood quietly a moment watching the horses at the water’s edge. The black horse had taken to nudging the grey draft with its nose as if to get it to move over a bit. After a moment Dean turned back towards Castiel and his expression softened.

“What will happen to you and me when we get back Cas?” he asked.

Cas didn’t look at him this time, and kept his eyes on the water. “What would you like to happen?”

Dean took in a breath, looked down at his boots almost shyly and then looked back at the water as Cas was doing, “I dunno….keep going?… The way we’ve been. Y’know? I want….” Dean halted and he began to fidget with his hat in his hands. “I want you to stay.”

Carefully, as if the hat would break if disturbed, Castiel removed it from Dean’s hands. With his free hand Cas took hold of Dean’s and as he came to face Dean, he brought both of their hands up to his own lips. Cas closed his eyes and slowly placed lingering kisses across Dean’s knuckles and fingers. The act was intimate, sensual and unhurried. Sometimes Cas would allow his mouth to hold and press longer. On the last kiss his suckled lightly against Dean’s skin and he brought his eyes up to meet Dean’s. He released his hold but kept the eye contact.

“I would like that very much.” The words rolled off Castiel’s lips as they pulled into another small smile.

“G…good…good.” Dean let out a rush of breath as his cheeks went warm and a bright smile flooded across his face. “Good.”

They turned together then and regrouped with the others. Sam was standing beside his horse now, stroking its flank and smiling. The others were near he and the horses and Gabriel was telling a story about Alexander the Great and one of his consorts. He had Ischen giggling like a school girl over it.

“Well….is everyone ready?” Dean called out, not unfriendly.

Sam patted his horse and pulled his rifle off the saddle. “Going to miss my horse. I wish we could bring them back with us. The rifles and guns too. I really like them.”

“No kiddin’. But where would you keep a horse Sam?” Dean chuckled.

Sam just smiled big and flaunted his dimples. “I’d figure something out.” He turned to Kian and clapped a hand on the Arab’s shoulder. “You’ll take good care of him won’t you?”

“I will my friend. And thank you…for everything you all have done for us.” Kian was smiling, but his eyes were red rimmed and watery.

Sam turned to Calvin and placed the rifle firmly into the man’s hands, “We won’t forget you.” Calvin accepted the rifle with a somber nod, and looked down for a moment. He brought one knuckle up to rub at his nose before he took in a deep breath and looked up again.

“I promise I’ll get them safely to New Orleans, and keep an eye on them for a while.” Gabriel said with all seriousness. He and Castiel traded knowing looks before Gabriel dropped his eyes down. The angelic brothers had spent several hours talking the night before, discussing the ordeals to come with the Host and Heaven. And Sam had said suggested pointedly many times over that Gabriel hone his skill at faking his death, even though he knew it would cause trouble for both he and Dean later. But in Sam’s mind, if it kept him alive through his future confrontation with Lucifer it would be worth it.

“Oh you men are so ridiculous….” Ischen clucked at her husband and Kian. She reached right up and hugged Sam hard, squeezing him as tight as she could. She laughed out and smiled as she said her thanks and her farewell to him. Sam returned the hug with a chuckle. Then she repeated the gesture with Castiel who awkwardly half hugged her back. When she moved to Dean he was waiting with open arms and a wide smile. They embraced and said their goodbyes.

Once they parted, Kian followed suit, first embracing Sam as Ischen had done, then Dean. To Castiel however, he bent to one knee and bowed. He placed his fingers to his forehead then his lips and said, “Wa 'alaykum salaam my friend.” Then he stood to trade smiles with Cas. Calvin followed by shaking hands with the Winchesters and Cas, repeated his gratitude and his own farewells.

“The horses and all our gear are yours now,” Dean nodded to the three hunters now, “You guys are gonna do great. When we get back…we’ll read through the history books and look for you.”

The Sam and Dean stepped back.

Castiel grasped Gabriel’s forearm with his hand, and Gabriel returned the gesture. They meet each other’s eyes a moment and after a nod, pulled together in a tight brotherly embrace. Gabriel clasped Castiel firm across the back once, then let go. Then Castiel stepped to stand beside Dean.

Dean removed the pocket watch from his pocket. He opened it carefully, then lifted the edge of the picture of John and Mary so he could remove the bit of paper from underneath. He replaced the picture and opened the paper. He gave a glance to Sam, then to Cas. Sam place one hand on Dean’s shoulder, and with his other hand he reached behind Dean for Cas. Castiel took hold of Sam’s hand, and with his other gripped hold of Dean’s shirt at the shoulder.

Dean took a deep breath, doubled checked the words on the paper one more time. Then he cleared his mind. He thought of the Impala, of his Baby, back home. He pictured her long liquid lines and the shining chrome. He pulled up the feel of her steering wheel from his memory and the scent of the leather seats. He played the growling purr of her engine in his head and he smiled.

Then he spoke the words written on the paper aloud.

 

“There’s no place like home.”

 

Instantly there was a rushing gust of wind directly around the three of them. It twirled in a small tornado tight about their three bodies and Dean could feel himself gently lifted. They rose ever so slightly up off the ground. Warm deep red light littered with glowing discs whirled around them. The discs sometimes looked like blood cells, sometimes fluttering rose petals. They lifted a bit more up off the ground and a steady humming vibration worked up their bodies from the tips of their toes to the plains of their scalps. The red color began to wane to orange, then yellow gold, then the pale colors of the sun high in the sky. Dean tried to keep his eyes open, to keep watching but they were beginning to water and the light was beginning to build to an unbearable intensity. The light shifted to green and blue and Dean felt himself jerk in every direction and no direction at the same time. He was floating and the vibration inside him was now still.

And then suddenly he was sitting in the drivers’ seat of the Impala, steering wheel in his hands, gas pedal under his booted foot. Seat firmly planted against his backside. He let off a small yelp, and the car swerved a second before Dean got it under control. He slowed and pulled to the side of the road to catch his breath. He shot a look over to Sam seated beside him, and then to Castiel sitting in the backseat, then back at his brother. He and Sam looked at each other for a long moment, both of them were breathing hard. But Castiel was calm in the back as if nothing had happened.

“What was that?!” “Did you feel that?!” “It was like the road jumped.” “Did you hit something?” “No I didn’t hit anything.” “Was it just a pot hole?” “It was probably just a pot hole….” They bantered back and forth while looking around at the car, at each other, at the road. Then they looked back at Castiel.

He was sitting, watching idly out the window with an annoyed look on his face. “You should have let me ride shotgun.”

 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

**Epilogue**

_One Year Later at the Men of Letters Bunker  
_

 

Kevin Tran was standing on a stepladder, balancing precariously on the balls of his feet as he stretched up higher to reach an old flat box resting on the very top of the shelves. His other hand gripped hard to the shelf at chest height and he was cursing creatively under his breath as his fingers just brushed the underside of the box. He barked out a frustrated noise and then jumped, tipping the underside of the box slightly but not really budging it. He let out a low groan and his shoulders slumped.

“Would you like some help with that?” Castiel’s voice caught Kevin off guard, as he was suddenly right at Kevin’s elbow.

“Shit Cas….how do you do that?” Kevin complained as he stepped down off the ladder.

“Do what?” Castiel stepped up onto the ladder and reached up for the box.

“Sneak up so quietly, I didn’t even hear you walk into the archive room…” Kevin gestured to the door behind them.

“I wasn’t outside in the hall. I was around the corner there in the vault. I discovered that the Mesopotamian section is filled with Persian artifacts and I’ve been in there since dawn sorting everything out.” Castiel explained. He nicked hold of the edge of the box and pulled it forward, allowing gravity to tip it down into his hand. As the box came free, a leather bound journal that had been hidden on top of it came falling down. Castiel caught it easily with his reflexes.

“Hey, nice catch.” Kevin smiled.

Looking please, Castiel echoed the smile but his eyes were now on the leather journal, “Thanks. I was worried after the…y’know….fall…that I’d lose so much of what I was but it seems this body remembers more than I gave it credit for.” He passed the box to Kevin.

“Sam said you tossed that rugaru on its ass last week like it was a rag doll.” Kevin took the box and held up his hand to high-five Cas.

“I just used its momentum against it…it’s an old Akido move….I’ll show it to you later if you like.” Castiel stepped off the ladder and looked at Kevin’s hand for a second, then he made and ‘oh’ sound remembering what to do and he high-fived Kevin. “So what’s in the box?”

Kevin lifted the lid. Inside was a small stack of Mad Magazines from the late 50s. “I need a break from working on the tablet. Dean said he found these a while back so….” Kevin shrugged and gave a self-conscious smile.

“Enjoy yourself then…” Cas stepped back onto the ladder and was about to put away the journal but hesitated. He brought it back down to eye level and looked a bit closer at the leather cover.

“Well, I’ll be in the library table if you need me….” Kevin turned to walk out of the room.

“Of course…” Castiel’s focus was held now on the journal’s cover and on the design detailed on its surface. Within the design were the initials “C.C.”. Castiel opened the cover and looked inside. He read for a few moments, and then as he became engrossed in what he found there, he sat down on the top of the stepladder.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Several hours later Castiel came out to the war room table where Sam was typing away on his laptop and Dean was studying over a large map of Yosemite National Park. Kevin was over at the long table in the library back at work on the tablet.

Cas came up to the table. In one hand he had the leather bound journal. In the other was a large leather envelope. He placed both on the table at the end between the brothers, and opened the envelope. He withdrew a stack of letters and set them down as well.

“Whatcha got there Cas?” Dean glanced away from the map to look at the stack.

“The journal of Calvin Emmett Cooper.” Castiel rested his hands lightly on his hips. “And his letters to us.”

“To us?!” Sam stopped typing and looked with confusion over at Cas, then at the journal and the letters. “Wait…why does that name sound familiar…?”

Dean put the map aside and reached for the top letter. The paper envelope it was in was addressed exactly as “To Castiel Winchester” Dean’s brow furrowed and he frowned to mimic Sam. Carefully he pulled out the letter inside as Sam opened the journal.

Dean began to read the letter and sat up, “March 4th, 1909…..Dear Castiel, it’s been nearly a year since you and the Winchester brothers left to return to the future. I hate to report, but your horse met a sad fate today and we had to put her down. We were halfway to San Francisco when a wendigo caught us unawares. The pinto took the brunt of the attack and after we dispatched the monster, we had to put the poor girl out of her pain. Ischen is still distraught over it. The Native guide we have hired to take us through the Rockies insists the meat will be good and we shouldn’t waste it….” Dean stopped and looked up at his brother, green eyes wide with confusion. “How…?”

“Get this…” Sam began to read from the journal, “Christmas 1910. We are off to China in the spring. Kian keeps getting a ‘ping’ on his ‘radar’ from something there but we couldn’t book passage sooner. Dean will be pleased that his colloquialisms have rubbed off on Kian….”

Dean shuffled through the letters and pulled another one out and began to read it, “May 2nd, 1915. Happy Birthday Sam! We three still think on you fondly and not because you taught me and Shenny to shoot a rifle. We all miss you and your brother, and Castiel as well. Being a hunter is lonely work as you well know. I am not sure how you and Dean managed alone all those years. Your stories by the campfire are something we still recall today. We have been making quite a few of our own stories as well. Maybe someday you will receive these letters and read them yourself.”

“The journal is full of accounts of Mr. and Mrs. Cooper and the man named Kian hunting as a trio. It lasts from 1909 to 1916, and some of the letters are dated as late as 1923. The focus of both the journal and the letters appears to be simply informing the three of us on their progress during this time.” Castiel let out a long sigh, “But I have no comprehension of how they know us or when we would have met them.”

“I know but…it feels familiar somehow doesn’t it? Like a dream or ….” Sam scrunched up his nose as he puzzled it out in his head.

“Well…the first letter I pulled out talked about time travel….maybe sometime later this year we bounce back in time to meet them?” Dean shrugged.

“Or worse, maybe we went back already, but don’t remember it…” Sam’s shoulders slumped.

Dean growled a little, “That would really suck….to have an awesome back-through-time cowboy adventure and not remember it….. Look he talks here about how we all stopped a vampire train robbery! That is so cool!”

Castiel and the brothers discussed it long into the night, taking turns reading the journal and through the letters. Sam made a chart on the computer to track dates and places, and the names of all the monsters and gods that were hunted. By the next day they were no closer to understanding how the mystery letters came to be nor were they closer to sorting out the source of the journal. A day later they began to search through the Men of Letters archives, looking for any mention of the Coopers or Kian. Eventually they discovered an incorporated trust fund set up by a Calvin Emmet Cooper in 1924 as well as a building bought and renovated by him in Chicago in 1925. Just as they were making plans to head up to Chicago to check it out, Garth phoned. An out of control changeling infestation in New Mexico took precedence and they had to abandon the mystery.

Meanwhile, stuck down in the foot well of the Impala outside, an old beat up silver pocket watch was lodged just beneath the drivers seat. The watch face was cracked and broken, and whatever photo inside it was burnt away to char. And when Dean got in to start the drive to New Mexico, the heel of his boot simply shoved it further under the seat, and it was lost.

 

 

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 **Bonus extra epilogue** : How the Men of Letters acquired Calvin Cooper's journal and letters to the Winchesters

 

1928 – Chicago

The snow was piling higher as the soft flakes fell through the air. It had blanketed the city in a hush of white and the wind for once had died down to nothing. A fit man bundled up well for the weather trotted briskly along the snow-clogged sidewalk along West Greenleaf Ave. He needed to leap over mounds of white as he went, holding on to his hat as he did. He stopped in front of a six story building and pushed in through the front entry door. He stopped just inside in a small foyer. He shucked off his hat and coat, shaking the lingering snow from them before he hung them on nearby pegs.

He had a mass of blond wavy hair on his head, bright playful green eyes and a scattering of freckles across his tan skin. He sat on a small bench nearby and began to pull off his boots.

“Eddie? Is that you?” a woman’s voice called out from up the nearby stairs. Her warm voice was coloured by a Brazilian accent and it had a youthful lilt to it.

“Yes Allie. It’s me….they were out of jam at the corner store. Have to try back later….” He called back, his own Australian accent as thick as her South American one. “Wha’d I miss?” He tugged on new shoes then bound up the stairs.

She was waiting for him on the landing between the second and third floors, and she placed her finger over her lips. “Shhh… Liang is upstairs…we have visitors.” She was of medium height and dressed in a simple russet coloured sheath dress. Her rich dark hair was cut into a stylish bob and her big dark eyes were wide. “It’s that Winchester fellow, James, and his Men of Letters friends.”

“They came all the way from Kansas again?” He came up to stand beside her, but his gaze was pointed up the stairs to the next floor. “Is it another werewolf thing?”

“No.” She clasped her hands together, “They are asking about the journal and the letters!”

Eddie raised one brow and looked at her. “Finally. Took them long enough.”

 “I know. Tsk, we should have just sent the silly things to them….I don’t know why Kian wanted to do it this way…..” She began to tug absently on the long string of beads that draped down her front.

A door somewhere upstairs above them opened and they could hear voices coming into the open hallways surrounding the stair well. Soon a group of people was moving down the stairs lead by an Asian man, Liang, who was dressed in the style of a Chicago businessman. His short hair was combed back neatly, his dark eyes smiling but the rest of his face was stern. Behind him was a tall man with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and keen hazel eyes. Following were three more gentlemen. They were all dressed similarly and their demeanor spoke of scholars and academics.

“Ah, gentlemen…you have met my associate Alejandra, and now this is Edison Kearn…our Binder.” Liang spoke, but his accent was all Chicago west side yet held a formal educated cast to it. “Eddie, this is James Winchester and his associates from the Men of Letters…misters Brighton, Harvelle and Singer.”

James extended his hand, and Eddie took it with a smile, “Nice to meet you….” James nodded to Allie, “Now, Ms Salvatore is your Locator am I correct?”

Liang smiled with his whole face instead of just his eyes, “I’m afraid I am our Locator at the moment. Allie is our able Banisher.” As if to punctuate this, Allie gave James a saucy smile and winked at him.

“I see,” James fidgeted slightly with his hands and the large bound leather envelope he held. “And you are the second round of God Hunters then?”

“Yes we are sir.” Allie smiled again. “The Coopers have retired but Kian stays with us as counsel.”

“Yes. Is it possible to speak with any of them?” James looked hopeful.

“Why do you ask?” Liang’s smile began to melt down to something serious and unapproachable.

“Let me be honest in my candor….” James gave a brief look to the men with him and then returned his attention back to the Hunters, “We found a hotel ledger from Sanctuary Kansas in 1908 that has the signature ‘Samuel Winchester’ listed on it. We’ve also discovered a receipt for a party at a saloon in Tulsa paid for by the same man, and another hotel in Tulsa….also that same year…with not only Sam Winchester’s signature on the ledger, but one for a Dean Winchester and a Castiel Winchester!” James took a deep breath, “It is well recorded in the Men of Letters documents about the original Hunter’s time in Sanctuary and in Tulsa in dealing with the Aztec gods and in those documents it speaks of three other men that accompanied them on their travels.” James looked down to the bundle he carried, “And now we have the letters Calvin Cooper wrote to those three men afterwards and we have his journal which we are most grateful for. We can study them…..but….” James stepped forward imploring Liang, “If we could speak with either the Coopers or with Kian, talk to the individuals who were with those Winchesters….that would be…It would mean so much to me.”

“Why do these men matter to you Mr. Winchester?” Allie raised one dark brow as she asked.

James Winchester took a long moment and then said, “We believe the Castiel they traveled with was actually an Angel. The Castiel mentioned in numerous texts and books in the lists of angels. And there is something else….” He turned over the envelope of letters in his hands, “Sam and Dean…” He paused, “Let me explain. The Winchester line is something that is recorded and known. And these two men are unknown to us. We don’t know who they are! It is imperative that we find out who they were and what they were doing there at that time.”

Liang looked carefully at the man and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “The best I can do is to let you have the Cooper’s address in Cairo. You are free to write to them. Ask them yourself if they will speak with you. But Kian….”

Eddie spoke up, “He’s taken a vow of silence. He did so when he stopped as acting Locator. He lives on the top floors of this building but speaks to no one but Liang.”

“I understand. Thank you. I’ll try my luck with the Coopers then.” James looked defeated but smiled anyway. “May I have their correspondence?”

“Come this way, I’ll give it to you as you leave.” Liang guided the Men of Letters downstairs.

James paused to politely say farewell to Allie and Eddie, then followed them down.

Once they were out of earshot, both Allie and Eddie scampered up stairs, running up the needed flights to come up into the top floor loft where Kian stayed. They tumbled into his space and over to his side.

The room was wide open, draped in rich batik dyed fabrics and textures from Kian’s Arab tribe. Mats and carpets and large pillows adorned the sitting area where Kian was now, a low table beside him with a bowl of apples nearby. Kian was in mid-bite on one when the two came to collapse into the pillows on either side of him.

“It worked.” Eddie grinned.

“I still don’t know why we couldn’t just send the letters to them. Why did we need to make it all mysterious?” Allie pouted.

Kian merely shrugged and smiled, “Did Liang lie again and tell them I had taken a vow of slience?”

“No. I lied this time.” Eddie shrugged.

“I don’t like all this subterfuge. Mr. Winchester seemed like such a lovely man….” Allie reached over and picked up an apple and turned it over in her hands.

“You just thought he was dreamy…” Eddie teased and Allie simply rolled her eyes.

Liang entered the space now and came towards them. He walked directly up to Kian, then bent down to kiss Kian lovingly on the lips. Then he took a seat next to Allie across the table from Kian. “They have left. Hopefully the letters will reach Sam and Dean some time in the future.”

Kian looked pointedly at Allie, “We had to lie….if the letters came easily to James he would have been suspicious of our motives. That he had to work for them will change their value. The Men of Letters will keep them safe in their vaults and someday they will be given to Sam and Dean and Castiel.”

“Do you think they remembered everything after they were sent back to their own time?” Allie looked to Kian with soft inquiring eyes.

“I don’t know.” Kian let out a long soft sigh. “Gabriel seemed to think they wouldn’t. That their memories would be washed clean of all of it.” Kian look down to his hands, a sadness colouring along his features. “I hope not.”

“You miss them, don’t you my love?” Liang said quietly.

“Yes.” Kian looked up. “I do.”

 

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A week later, James Winchester sat down at his desk in his office in Kansas. There was discussion among the Men of Letters about building a special bunker to centralize their operation and house their growing library and their collection of artifacts. But they were not united on where the bunker should be located as of yet. He put those thoughts aside and opened the leather bound envelope before him on the desk. He removed a thick stack of letters and carefully opened the one on top and began to read:

“Dearest Sam, Dean, and Castiel….

I hope this letter arrives to find you all in good health. We have just boarded the paddle boat for New Orleans today and we thought at first our journey might be a leisurely one. No sooner had we pushed off the dock, we caught rumors that one of the rooms on the boat is haunted and we felt the need to investigate just as you had taught us to do….”

James Winchester leaned back in his chair and continued to read.

 

**~*fin*~**

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Supernatural and its original characters and themes are the property of The CW Network etc. "The God Hunters" and it's original characters are the property of E.G. Johnson.


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